Strangulated
by holospartoi258 - Alpha 01
Summary: Jewel has always hated having children, and for reasons that outnumber the grains of sand in Rio. It's a fortress she's erected, one she has made so infallible that she would do anything to ensure her utmost freedom. Even break up with her lover. Of course life's not so lenient.
1. Against

_**PLEASE READ THIS WARNING:**__** I do not own Rio, Jewel, or any character or theme used in the Rio film. They belong solely to Blue Sky Films and 20th Century Fox.**_

…_hey guys. ._. So, well, as you can probably see… I've decided to write something. This idea has been kind of nagging at the edge of my mind, and I really wanted to write it out on some form of media, just to blow off some steam from my writing space. And I figured, how about using Rio to do it?_

_Regarding NtY, I've already said it in my A/N, but I'd like to say that I'm sorry that I ran out of imagination fuel for that. I did have the entire plot kinda lined out and everything, but I didn't have the inspiration to etch it out. Thankfully RAS was there to help, and I can assure you that his version (if you guys haven't read it yet, which I doubt) is as good as, if not better, than I had imagined. So thanks for that RAS._

_In the meantime, I'd like to present to you my first Rio fic in a long time. I'd like to warn though, that I've made quite a lot of sensitive remarks in this fic. A lot of it is regarding a topic that either gets you hugs or stones, mostly the latter. So before you venture into this fic, I'd like to warn all of you to be as open-minded as possible. Thematically and characteristically, I've been meaning to explore something a bit different than my typical, Twilight-esque love fics… so it'll be significantly different from my past works (if you guys remember them, haha). So please be open-minded, this is just an experimental fic, please be easy on me.:{_

* * *

~This is not the me you know~

All over the world humans are debating about their rights. What they deserve as human beings regardless of race or gender or whatever. About the sanctity of life as a whole and how it transcends that of any other damned thing in the entire world. Any problem whatsoever is crushed like an egg under the weight of what humans think of themselves and about what life is as a whole. That everybody deserves to live a normal, healthy, hassle-free life, and that everything else comes second. Or third, if you count money. Fourth if you count sex.

The point is, humans seems to revolve around the one point that is almost universally accepted- life is holier than any book claims to be. The scatterbrains up there rampaging on and on about pro-life and how euthanasia and abortion are all satanic and bad, they argue that human life as sacred as cows are to Muslims or something like that. They think that their lives are all important enough to override more pressing issues. Like poverty. Or unemployment. Or even the lives of other people.

See this is why pro-lifers will never _ever_ _**EVER**_ get anywhere. They put a concept on the throne – a concept so selfish and unmovable – that when more factors are input into the equation, they are eroded away into nothingness over this overriding concept. They are ignored, considered less important, regardless of the actual consequences. Euthanasia is considered satanic even though it would save hospitals money, energy and time that could be invested in curing cancer rather than keeping a ripe old life afloat. Designer babies have become a ludicrous idea since once procreated, they are incorrectly perceived to live a difficult, loveless, purposeless life, when instead they are actually saving their sibling's life, which would otherwise fall innocently in the Grim Reaper's hands. The death penalty is considered outrageous as criminals are supposed humans too, when they would in actual fact pose a great threat to society should they be released back to it once more.

Life is supposedly sacrosanct and infalliable to whatever threatens it. And perhaps innocent humans do deserve to live instead of falling to the cruelty of life. But when it's one life against another, a choice is to be made. Some things are just more important and beneficial to the rest of the world. And sometimes, life isn't exactly life when it's incapicitated or still a zygote. Pro-lifers will often get mixed up because of these things.

Can we just move on to the more pressing matters? As in, the ACTUAL LIVING? The ones that have their whole life ahead of them? The ones who are bound for suffering?

I've just had enough of this nonsense.

* * *

~Let's start to where my life ended, shall we?~

There was always a gut feeling that perhaps, Rafael was right.

The whole concept was just so laughably ridiculous. It was just about as feasible as material that an egg can be cracked upon, and won't crack – it wasn't needed, it won't work, and the whole thing just sounded like a really bad joke. I burst into hysterics, tears in my eyes and all, when Rafael told us about the 'leaf' – it was either that or to slap him in the face and tell him to shut up. I mean, what was the point of having a leaf? – I can't imagine a part of sentient nature even being part of this, well, admittedly grotesque, process of life anyway. It was just so silly, I explained to him, and what were the chances of it working anywho? The leaf isn't exactly made of steel. They break, flake, crumple, and eventually get dispersed into the wind. About a couple of times later, I was sure that it wouldn't last a bit.

Blu, obviously, got a different reaction. He remained intent on listening to whatever his 'dear Rafi' had to say about the matter. It was important to him, he reasoned, and it _should_ have been important to me. Well, of course it was important to me – I was more worried about me ending up in heat and then ending up pregnant, anyway, since it would be _me_ who I couldn't control – but the moment Rafael moulded the solution into a sheet of Mother Nature, that was where I pressed the bullshit button. And not because I was disgusted by the fact that it would be contaminated with preferably-remaining-to-be-unspoken bodily juices, though that was a speck of my universe of problems with it. It wasn't feasible. It wasn't logical.

I ignored the two pairs of Z chromosomes to themselves, as Rafael tried to reason out pretty lamely how the leaf had prevented him, along with Eva (who I suspected was also going coconuts over this) from having more than their 20? (sweet papaya tendrils!) hatchlings in their family. I remained set on my belief. They were not making any sense whatsoever. Something told me that Blu was going to marvel over this makeshift contraceptive, and I internally groaned. This was going to take a while.

As much as I loved Blu, he was about as naïve as a fly buzzing towards a pitcher plant. Tell him that the world would end tomorrow, and he would hold me tighter than human right laws like no tomorrow, bracing himself for the fall. He had a plethora of ideas about our family, several of which were too fantasical for any lesser goofball to believe, and he wanted everything to be perfect. And he had the belief that they could be. He couldn't have been more wrong, of course, but he chose to be the-glass-is-actually-completely-full optimistic about it. Just making himself more vulnerable for the fall.

Anyway, one of things that his ideas of a family, (I swear he must've drawn these with _Crayola_ on a piece of mahjong paper one day), was that his "family" was going to consist of more than just two birds. At first I thought he was planning to cheat on me and find more mates; three slaps to the face later, he explained that he was planning to have children. It never occurred to me that he wanted a family, having lived his whole life as a pet, but I guess it all added up. Linda had been like a mother to him, and he had his own external hemisphere of a family outside of Rio. Now that he was forming his own, he would want his family to be as extensive as possible. Like a hydrocarbonic chain, he explained, to have more bonds with one another, with more carbon atoms came a bigger chain, being more extensive and thus having a bigger attractive field.

Fourth slap to the face.

I probably should've seen this coming – it was another gut feeling, pretty subtle no less – but it still shook me, cracked me into shattered pieces like an egg. I never wanted a family. I never signed up for this. Perhaps I would have a companion in the form of Blu for the rest of my life. That was all right for me, and it didn't seem like I had a choice, I was addicted to loving Blu like it was cocaine/sex. But that's where I toed the line. After seeing Rafael's family, I mentally made it clear that I will never have a hatchling. And for reasons too. Practical ones. Not like Blu's organic chemistry nonsense.

Blu has tried convincing me. And every time his eyes get moist and I realise that he was going to cry over the fact that we might break up because of this one fact, I have to pull the "I'll think about it, I guess" card. He hasn't realised how many times we've pulled it, and it saddens me, honestly it does. I can't stand to see Blu like this. It cracks my heart open, and leaves me completely helpless. I love Blu a lot, I really do. Blu once said that love makes the world go round, and he's partially right. Love is powerful, more powerful than I would like, enough to supersede a lot of things. And the thing I was worried about was that my principles were going to crumble under such a crushing weight that had been thrust upon me.

I had to make a stand. I put my identity over my love.

But it was a ferocious battle. And worst of all, it wasn't Blu's fault one bit. I just couldn't understand Blu's rationale for wanting a family. I'm surprised that an antonym for 'freedom' isn't 'family', in any case, and who would trade their freedom to do what they want for a gigantic leech on their chests, sucking out their energy and time that could be better utitlised for themselves? It wasn't worth it. But I couldn't bear to tell Blu this – I would just be making all his fears and my gut feeling that we were partially incompatible, all come true. Some part of me always told me that Blu and I weren't made for each other. I didn't want to prove it right, not for my love for him.

So here I was, in a limbo between what I believed in and what my heart dedicated itself to. Blu was my lovebird, and there was no way I'd trade him for anything. Definitely not for hatchlings. But he still had his own preconceived notions of family and what we were meant to be. It was love, but it was me against him. And if neither of us were pulled to the same side, we were going to lose this battle, a hypothetical scenario's imminent reality that would keep me awake for nights. And no quantity of flames in hell would make me crumble in having children.

Nigel once told me in captivity that if Blu and I became mates (in the hypothetical, unlikely situation that we made it out, and we did), we would be in for a hell lot of trouble, and that our relationship was akin to that of treading over eggs. In all my indignant rage, I refused to believe his words. And now that I've kicked the can down the road, it's bigger enough to haunt me for the rest of my life.

Dear god.

At one point Blu had decided to consult Rafael for tips on how to delay our family planning and such, just to appease my "persistence" in staying away from procreation. My initial reaction was that I was slowly winning this battle, and that I didn't have to make a choice of Blu and family. I was relieved for a lightning-strike second, before my gut feeling intercepted and reminded me that 'delay' was not synonymous with 'avoid', and that family planning didn't exist in the natural world. In the natural world we let everything take its own course, for every river will continue to flow down its path, and that no amount of external forces can bend the will of Mother Nature. But one break in the dam of my mind was all that was sufficient to shatter my life into pieces. I simply couldn't let this happen. Not in a million years.

Figures that the one method that could possibly be a contraceptive was a leaf. A goddamn leaf. That did it for me. My gut feeling was right. There was no way in hell I could do anything about it but abstain. Better the river never flows at all than flow into a dam.

I figured that Rafael and Eva had gone off their rockers. After Blu had an unncessarily lengthy conversation with the two toucans, we bade them farewell, while mentally noting never to consult them for romantic advice. Nico and Pedro were more likely to offer more sane words of wisdom, and that's really saying something. Then again Blu would probably remain deep-rooted in his faith of them. I was already fighting so many battles over here; did I have to fight another? How many breaks in the thread binding me and Blu did there have to be? How many breaks before the string snaps and sends me tumbling into the bottomless abyss below? Nothing can simply last forever, but could it at least be delayed?

As we flew back, I kept hurling glimpses at my soon-to-be-but-hopefully-never mate, as he continued wearing one homogenous smile on his face, the kind of pleasure that exuded from the bond that tied two soulmates together written all over it. Once in a while his eyes would lock with mine, and his smile would amplify in a way that was mysterious to all of birdkind knowledge, curving upwards into his trademark, slightly goofy grin that was imbued with pure, unadulterated happiness. It was my lovebird who could make happiness like a virus, so contagious that I had to erect a wall of immunity to ward it away. I couldn't do this forever. Someday, I reckoned, Blu and I would reach that stage of innocent, pure love, free of any strain that would severe us apart, and the chain that would bind us together will remain untouched. But my instinct told me otherwise.

Screw nature. I wanted Blu. And nothing was ever going to tear us apart. Nothing.

But for now, Blu's unadulterated optimism and hope for our future was going to have to wait. It was about as out of place as a dam in a river – we had so many differences. He had ideas that were about as appealing to me as raw eggs for breakfast, traits that sometimes ticked me off, and actions that made me cross so many, so many lines. No matter how potent love really is, we had so many hurdles to cross. The whole escapade against Nigel was one thing. Procreation was another. And this time it wasn't us against the world. It was I against him. And if I didn't win, we might as well have let the world win.

It was dusk by the time Blu and I reached back to the hollow, the sun now a miniscule orange sliver by the horizon, the sky as azure as my feathers. He set me down, and pecked me on the beak. One kiss, about as long as our first, and it was enough to send my whole world spiralling, revolving around one Macaw, one Macaw that was enough for my heart to swell and melt. It might have just been a month since we met, and possibly just as long since we became lovebirds, but some things were like laws – unchangeable, immovable, unshatterable. And the fact that we loved each other was one of these laws. It never eroded away.

But it never meant that they couldn't be bent, of course.

Blu pulled away, a thread of saliva connecting our two beaks unwinding before almost instantaneously snapping. Sometimes Blu isn't as naïve or childlike as he seems to be – for one thing, he can kiss – and by that I mean, he can _kiss_. And I've had suitors who had the proficiency with using their beaks of mutes. And for one thing, he knew how to imprison me with the shadow of his heart. It wasn't something that the mentally challenged could even dare to do.

Sometimes he felt like the sun. Everything revolved around me, and he was my light. Not to mention goddamn hot.

"I'll be back, love. I'll bring back your favourite fruits. Stay put," he whispered huskily into my ear, before he fluttered his wings and flew off into a realm of possibilities.

And then before I realised it, I was alone again, vulnerable without my lovebird. The wait was going to be harrowing. The intangible chain that connected me to him tugged, almost begging me to take to the sky and rejoin him once more. But I decided to follow his orders.

I shut my eyes, the wind of the sunset rustling through my feathers and the taste of Spring on my tongue, as my mind spiralling backward into a memory of before…

_It was a time that was disturbingly similar to this point. In one of those nights that Blu and I had become more intimate, he had me on my back, planting kisses along my neck, shivers rippling through my body, adrenaline pumping through my veins as my nether regions begged for action. It was a moment of pleasure and pain. Pleasure for obvious reasons, but pain as I struggled with my reasoning and what I stood for, one of those times where I was close to breaking and falling into that trap. _

_It was those times where, ironically, Blu was at his most innocent, most animalistic. He made every action out of love, out of his emotions, and not by his rationale. He loved me, and he wanted us to be as intimate and closely-knit as possible. I didn't want to blame him for anything. But every inch of me, even in between my talons, I wanted to scream for him to stop. He hadn't even made his advances yet, just foreplay and anticipation leading up to it, but I just couldn't do this. And I could never bring myself to do it._

_I pushed him away._

_Then came the surprised look, having transformed from the most erotic, lust-filled face to one of disbelief, almost as if his world had crashed upon him. It should have broken my heart, but I quickly struck._

"_I… I'm sorry Blu," I muttered under my breath, putting on a masquerade of shyness, with my negative desire radiating almost visibly from me. "I… I can't." _And I won't_, I thought. "Not now." _Not ever. _"I… I'm just not ready. Perhaps another time." _Never another.

_Blu's face creased into a frown. He struggled between his hormonal desires and his love for me, and inevitably, the latter won. He pecked me on the forehead, pulling me into his embrace. _

"_I understand, love," he said, disappointement tinting in his voice, and internally I yelled a cry of victory. My poker face did not waver, but inside the relief flooded me like a dam in the river had cracked upon. I could do this, I told myself. It wasn't a matter of time after all; I would remain firm in my belief. There would be no family, or at least in Blu's dictionary's case. It would just be the two of us. _

"_I'm sorry I did that. I… I couldn't control myself. I love you so much, Jewel you know that? I love you so much that sometimes it hurts. And that's when you hurt." He kissed the edge of my beak, and nuzzled his head into my breast, like a child burying himself in his mothers' arms when he feels scared. _

"_I love you Jewel…"_

"_I love you too, Blu. And I'm sorry for this," I said, the moment I see Blu's eyes close and watch him drift to sleep, into another fantasy, another veiled reality._

That was the last time he had attempted to break my will, and out of those times this had been the one fraught with the least troubles, with the least arguments. I remembered once I had shouted, albeit with an unnecessary quantity of volume, for him to get the hell away from my cloaca. That kind of threw him over the edge, I could see it within him, even through his poker face as he attempted to defend himself with reasoning that I already knew but would never understand. He thinks I can't see him fight the tears, but the eyes are, after all, the windows of one's soul.

The number of 'sorry's and 'I didn't mean it's that have been exchanged through these months could outnumber the stars in space. (Blu tells me the phrase is over-exaggerated, but I say screw that, the point's there) And the worst part is, they've all been said in a way so honest it puts God to shame.

The gradient is climbing downwards, but who knows when it would reflect? I loved Blu, and still do, and the last thing I wanted to do was to leave him because of my own selfish desires. But if that meant delving into a scenario so horrifying and unnerving that it made my feathers crawl with, then god so help me.

I sighed, and my eyes turned back to the exit of the hollow, facing an outside world that was shrouded by darkness, glittering with specks of light from above, and possibly the world's largest expanse of vegetation ever known. It seemed strange that the Amazon could be considered the home to one of the greatest clusters of species in size, giving the connotation that the jungle would be overflowing with life. But 16 years in the wildlife and I know that at night, everything shuts down. It is about as filled with life as an egg- dormant being a zygote, but still completely, utterly dead nonetheless. You can't see any sign of life in the jungle- no movement, no sound save for the occasional hoots of owls, nothing. And no, I do not count, god so help me, an artificial nightclub as being part of the damn jungle. It taints what nature was meant to do at night – die. It becomes unconscious, unresponsive, motionless, and becomes a hunk of wood, leaves, meat, dirt and what-have-you.

No matter how inherently precious something is, the fact that it is dead doesn't honestly account for anything.

My reverie is broken when I spot something peek out of the hollow. At first I think that Blu is back, and, in the most literal sense, as a knee-jerk reaction I stick out my talon. But my mind registers that, even in the darkness, it had been a streak of orange, white and black, definitely not Blu. An intruder.

I stomped in fury. Why couldn't anybody ever respect privacy? I was alone, and vulnerable, as if being covered with eggshell, and this intruder was going to take advantage of it. This was simply unfair.

"Who's there? Don't be an asswipe coward, show yourself!" My voice tries not to betray any fear.

Immediately the intruder becomes visible, and when I catch sight of him, I let go of the breath I'm holding. It's a toucan, one of Rafael's children for sure. Alone. Probably just taking a look elsewhere, exploring in the middle of the night. Perfectly normal.

In the pale moonlight I could see his wide, cerulean eyes staring into me, almost innocently, like a child, reminiscent of the last time Blu and I had encountered a full flock of these. But I was at home base this time, and there hadn't been any other Toucans that would have aided a full-fledged barrage upon me. It was just this one lone ranger carrying about his normal business, having stumbled upon here unwittingly.

"Oh. It's only you… a… hatchling."

His expression of pleasant surprise, veiled with childlike curiosity, does not waver as his talons clamber rather clumsily into the hollow, nearly adjacent across me. He flutters his wings innocently until he stands right in the center of the circular base of the hollow, his attention swerving from me to whatever pattern or indentations there was above the hollow. Such curiosity never failed to amuse me, and more often than not it drew me to their field of vision.

And that was why I stood still, unwavering, completely trusting in the natural innocence of the hatchling – almost entranced of its presence. It was one of Rafael's, and I should have brought him back, but for one moment I tried to look past all the other traits of a child and focused on this one child, with its vast curiosity for the outside world, and what awaited him… a future of possibilities, like the natural engravings of tree bark. Never-ending, winding, spiralling, looping, meandering… like mini-rivers all racing down the journey of life, wandering aimlessly and covering as much route as possible.

Was that what children's destinies were? To explore the earth and gain as much knowledge and experience as possible, in this vast, almost boundless universe?

Now who were we to stop them?

My thoughts were almost drifting from the clouds when the hatchling stared at me, turning around, facing me and the exit of the hollow. His eyes seemed to twinkle slightly in the moonlight, the glint of a knife, as we peered into one another.

My head cocked to the side. "Is… there a problem?" I asked tentatively, as his global-vast eyes continued to bore into me, like twin mechanical drills.

His pupils rolled in his eye sockets before landing upon me once more. His eyebrows seemed to crease, in a skeptical, mature way, as if scrutinising me. His expression remained frozen, and his thoughts were incomprehendible.

The edges of his beak curled up, slightly at first, but then gradually until it became a smirk, one that was more typical of a teenager, a rebel, a monster.

"You," he said simply, in his squeaky, soprano voice, tainted by what I recognised almost instntly as pure, unadulterated fury. And before I could open my beak, he lunged at me, an animalistic, feral cry escaping from his beak as his talons aimed for my eyes, and his tiny body flung me over the edge with a surreal force.

The last thing I remember before blacking out was shrieking at the top of my lungs.

* * *

_So yeah. That'll be it for now, hopefully you guys like it. :/ If not then… tell me nicely please? Also my MSWord spell check kinda decided to derp on me so… yeah. Forgive me if there are any errors._

_Also, I'll be pretty much uploading chapters only if I feel like it. Don't expect regular updating as with my other stuff… my writing isn't as fast as I'd like it to be. Oh well._

_And now because FFN changed their format (FFN…) I can't do any review button nonsense :{ So instead, just, you know, go to that box below and type what you want… please?_

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	2. Fate

_**PLEASE READ THIS WARNING: I do not own Rio, Jewel, or any character or theme used in the Rio film. They belong solely to Blue Sky Films and 20th Century Fox.**_

To anyone asking: Jewel's been attacked by Rafi's hatchling, is being clawed to death as they fall to their deaths from the hollow. Or at least, that was what happened. Hope that clears up stuff.

* * *

~Your favourite Spix's Macaw, reporting for duty, _sir_~

Once, while roaming the streets aimlessly and randomly, I saw a young girl, accompanied by both of her parents, strolling along. She was jabbering on and on about some trivial thing that I couldn't be bothered to recall to her parents, in a rubber-duck squeaky voice that would make God pull his hair out, at the top of her lungs, in broken, Internet English. She was undoubtedly the epitome and definition of irritation – she drew countlessstares from passers-by, even murmurs. But they were mostly at her parents, remarking at how inexperienced they were, how lenient they must be to raise such an abrasive, ignorant child. Esssentially blaming them for their child's transgressions, taking the child to be innocent and the parents to be the source of evil – when it was in fact, the very opposite.

How can society be so ignorant, I thought? Perhaps the parents are not the best in the world, but this child – this pathetic excuse for a failed abortion – there is no way she can get of scot-free. It's not entirely her fault, but it is partially. Nobody's innocent in this world, the moment they enter this world.

Honestly somebody should put her on a leash, just to keep her down. Better yet, a noose.

I peered into the faces of the parents, and I was startled to see the mother wearing an accomodating face, nodding at the appropriate moments and responding occasionally, even gently telling her to lower her volume and to stop talking and 'concentrate on the road ahead, honey'. Needless to say the machine of prematurity refused to stop her blabbering and continued to spout her nonsense for the glory of public. The decibel level in her voice was on a steady escalation, and soon one-off stares became daggers of glares from various passers-by. Her mother's poker face never wavered; it was startlingly amazing how she could tolerate this. At best it seemed like she was an awfully accomodating and amiable woman; at worst but most likely, she was being a pretentious bitch to her own child. An alter-ego ready to be dissolved the tidal overflow of injustice and utter frustration.

The father wore a look more realistic- eyes clenched shut, hands balled upon into iron fists, ready to launch against the enemy should it break his patience, and his face creased into an ugly mess created by his daughter. His eye twitched every so often with every high-pitched squeal of the daughter, and in the December winter, smoke clouds emerged from under his nose as he exhaled sharply in exasperation. His wife clung on to his arm and squeezed it gently whenever he exhibited these signs of irritation in a bid to calm him down, but to no avail. The red in his face could only descend into a deeper crimson; nobody could actually blame him to be honest. Anybody in his place would have done the same thing, if you had to live with a living jet engine for the rest of your life – you'd wish that you'd be dumped into an elderly care center just to escape your own child.

The father looked about ready to teach that girl a lesson, but couldn't. It's an unwritten law to never discipline your children in public lest you are looked upon like Osama bin Laden. And it's a stupid law, even if unofficial – children basically rule the world, the parents unable to interfere with their destardly habits or exorcise them, in the fear of being condemned by the unforgiving society should they lay a finger on them. No matter how incompetent the parents are at home in disciplining or moulding them into better, less pull-out-your-hair-frustrating people, they can do whatever shit they want, and they can't do anything about it.

Is this why we have bad people out there in this world? Because they're put on a slippery slope down towards pure malice, ignorance and obstinance (a terrifying combination) from young, and nobody would be able to stop them? Is that truly it? Is it just one stupid rule – that children reign over anything with their innocence – is this the rule that has led to so much evil in this world?

For right now… children will be the death of me.

* * *

~I'm losing my hold on this~

When I wake up, it is white, sterile and glimmery, like life, and it takes me a while to register my surroundings as the aviary clinic. There are a bazillion avian doctors surrounding me and scrambling throughout the place, one of which I recognise as Tulio. He wears an extremely concerned look on his face, joined by Linda, who dons a twin expression similar to her boyfriend. They look me as if I were a mere child, weary and anxious of its unruly behaviour. The first thought that came to my mind was for them to stop looking at me like that. But the lights are paralysingly bright, stopping me and almost petrifying me.

I hear the muffled cry of 'Jewel! Jewel!' next to me, and I see my lovebird's face appear from the side. His beautiful face is tainted by nerve-wrecking worry, creased by desperation, and I feel him rocking my body almost violently. A headache erupts in my head as Linda attempts to keep him in control, and Tulio resumes checking up on me. Suddenly the bitter capability to feel pain returns in me, and I can feel my entire body blistering, bouts of fire ravaging through me and making my own feathers feel uncomfortable, even agonising. I groan in bone-breaking pain.

Tulio's eyebrows knit into a deeper frown, as if giving me the message that I was worse off than he expected. He mouths something to Linda, and the sorrow begins to seep into her expression. I can see the tears begin to stream down Blu's face as he wonders if I'll ever be the same again.

The memory rushes upon me like a river surge of the aftermath of a broken dam- me getting shoved out of the hollow by one of Rafael's kids. Somehow the numbing pain prevents any righteous fury from rushing through me again, but a part of my brain flashed an image of me garrotting him, begging for it to cross the border from virtuality to reality. It's one that I cannot resist, but cannot enact either. The exasperation is overwhelming.

My hearing gradually returns to me, though my headache does not subside. I hear my own moan in protest as Tulio pokes me almost unprofessionally, gauging a reaction.

"…quite a few bones broken, shouldn't be much of a problem…" I hear in his string of self-aimed mumbling as he continues to check up on me. Crap. Broken bones… one month after my wings were broken from that psychotic Nigel and that stupid cage. Am I really that accident-prone? Blu hadn't even sustained a scratch from our previous, exhilarating escapade… was he really lucky, or was I really just unlucky? Stupid fate.

"…gonna be fine, Blu, take a breather…" he tells Blu, and the overtly tensed muscles in my lovebird relax, for the first time in what seems like hours.

His chocolate-brown eyes stare into me, the worry still unable to dissipate from his face, and he speaks in his warm, gentle voice that makes my troubles and pain wash away, "Jewel, babe, Jewel are you alright? Oh God I'm so glad you're alive…"

Considering I had multiple broken bones and countless bruises and abrasions, this would be a stupider question than "Is water wet"? Nevertheless the corners of my beak rise in genuine happiness.

"I'm fine, Blu," I assure, my wing stretching out to his, and he grabs it gingerly. He heaves a heavy sigh of relief in hearing me speak; it's not as bad as he thinks.

"Oh you have no idea how worried I was, Jewel…" His voice is almost in a gallop. "When I saw you all scratched and bruised right next to that… that child…"

My eyes narrow. "What… what with that little devil…"

"Dead," Blu tells me. It is about as cold and unfeeling a tone he can manage in describing my attempted murderer, but his voice is still shaky, fragile even. "Neck snapped the moment his body hit the rock."

At that moment, my mind flashed an image of a bloodstained rock where a baby Toucan had been thrust upon ruthlessly, standing tall and firm in the midst of the grassy forest. Granted, he had tried to kill me (I mean _come on_, for Pete's sake, he's a _child_; he deserves a worse fate than that, in any case) but I knew Rafael and Eva. For a moment my thoughts drifted away from the present and tried to ponder over this.

It wasn't their fault that one of their children (or perhaps several of them, but the point remains) had turned rotten… I could imagine them drowning in grief over their presumably eldest child for having his life yanked away from his soulless body. And perhaps trying to scrub off the blood from the rock but to no avail, tears trickling down their wrecked faces. Somehow the sympathy overflowed from me, as if shaped like tendrils slithering to the two…

Just another reason why not to be a parent. Nearly every parent loves their child, to the point where if they had to choose to save their respective mate or that machine of terror, both of which have their lives on the line… they'd pick the latter. The choice disgusts me, and if that notion weren't universal it would have instigated a full-fledged riot from the ravaging heart within me. But the fact remains unwavering- parents love their children, way, _way_ too much. And so if their child were to be taken away from them… well it would be like their whole world had crashed and ignited into a million dark flames. And everybody knows how vulnerable children are.

When you have a child, and when you devote all your life and energy to other people, you begin to realise that not only does the life that you had struggled so many years to build and create begin to wither away into nothing… you leave your life in a glass jar just waiting to be smashed. And when it does, you can't take it back – ever.

Once you start on the world to have a child, your life is officially over. Period.

But Blu's face seemed to have some sort of empathy for the child. I doubted that he would have shared the same sentiments of Rafael and Eva's consequent, eternal grief, but rather have his heart whimper out to a life not yet started (_but gone with good freaking riddance_) to a child who had been snatched up by cruel fate. A child who had tried to kill me, and now that he had been gone, he had a stroke of sympathy for him.

Even if that had been a natural (_yet stupid_) reaction as a whole, I had the flaring urge to slap him across the face. This child had been a no-blooded, soulless murderer, having had used the dumbest yet most fundamental stereotype of all to lie and trick people into murdering them. Or at least me, but the fact is that he had done it. The action has been executed and the punishment, albeit a far too lenient one, had been imposed. So why should there be any sympathy? Just because a life's still a life?

I doubted he'd feel that way if that piece of shit hatchling had succeeded in taking my life. Murderers all deserve to die. The lives they took can never come back- and they must suffer the same fate, if not worse.

Blu shook out of his reverie, and he turned to me, the one still living yet almost fatally wounded – the one in this case, should be the only one that matters now besides Rafael and Eva.

"Oh Jewel… I… I'm sorry," Blu's words are once again a nervous scrambling mess of verbal strings. "I left you all alone in that hollow, without thinking this would happen… it's only by fate's grace that you're alive, thank gosh… I… I'm so sorry Jewel. I-"

Struggling to sit up, Blu's wings instinctively reach for me, but once I'm upright, I take his face into my cupped wings. His face is that of a concern that reached near-unachievable heights, one that truly felt like half of his heart had been struck. It is one of pained love, a reaction that told any outsider how deep and how big was his unending love for me. Such faces only existed in romance novels and soap operas, but had the ability to permeate into the vast realm of reality on the other side when true love had been found in this hopeless, bleak world. This is the bird I fell in love with, with a heart that shone brighter than any diamond and gleaming with genuinity. And through the pain and suffering that creased his beautiful face, it is one that is saturated with love.

It is a face that reminded me where my heart was.

"Blu… I'm fine. It's not your fault," I tell him, my feathers brushing his face as his tears continue to profusely flow from his eyes. "It's that child who killed me, in the direct sense. In any case, all that matters is that I'm fine. A bit broken but all good. So relax. Take a deep breath…"

Blu's head leaned towars me as he gradually sucked in a pocket of air, letting his head clear before exhaling it out with a similar slow velocity. His eyes open and they are empty of tears, albeit with the same, weary, anxious mood that had consumed him inside out from before.

But his mouth morphs into a smile, the rays of his personality's optimism having cracked through his mind to his face. He leans in further to peck me on the beak, a brief yet fiery taste of him still lingering on my tongue as he pulls away, and slowly adjusts himself. He continues to ensure my uttermost comfort as he lies upon the sufficiently gigantic bed allocated for me (tells a lot about Tulio's priorities for me), his gentle, soft yet firm wings wrapped safely around me, as mine around him. My head is now cradled upon his chest, and I can hear his heart steadily beating, swiftly but slowing as the exhilaration from before began to die down.

In that moment, with our bodies locked together and our wings intertwined, I knew one thing, and that our love was never going to fall, no matter what the world threw at us. If anything at all there was one thing that would never ever fail or erode away in the sea of fate, and that was that we would love each other till death do us part.

Forget having children. Forget what qualifies to Blu as a true 'family'. Forget anybody else. A family was knit with love; that was all it was. There was no need for a hatchling to interfere with us. All that remained was that it was Blu and I against the world. And we would stand united in our love.

Our love would last forever.

* * *

"…you can't force them, you know. That's not your job. Your job is to make sure they both stay alive and together. Whether they want to or not is theirs."

My eyes open. The aviary is shrouded in darkness- roughly a full day had passed since Blu had discovered me in the midnight that I had passed out having fallen from that tree by that terrorising piece of shit of a now-dead child. As I try to sit up, a sharp vertigo hits me and my surroundings sway before realigning. I look around and see Blu's body next to me, having previously sworn he would accompany me through this until it was over, sleeping.

It reminded me of the time where I had been in this aviary ater the escapade from the smugglers, where he would never leave my side, ensuring that I recovered well. (I swear if it weren't for him I would be only leaving this aviary from that incident right now) Back then I could see his eye bags beginning to develop, his yawning frequency was higher, and his health was slowly deterioriating nearly as fast as mine recovered. It took Tulio and my company to keep him from succumbing to sleeplessness and a fever. It broke my heart to see him sacrifice part of him for me. And the worst thing was that I would have done nothing different from him if I were he. It was the saddest I had ever felt ever since I left Luiz's garage.

Yet here he was repeating that. Somehow I felt like he loved me more than I loved him, sacrificing his energy and time and soul into making sure I had the best and that I wouldn't fall into darkness. And a fear transcended over me into thinking that perhaps I wasn't doing enough for him, refusing every single notion he presented to me about family and making him suffer for my sake. When will it stop? When will it ever be enough? When will fate ever stop trying to tear us apart?

My gut feeling told me never, and I knew I wouldn't trust it for this.

In any case, the surroundings were mostly dark, with only a square glimmer of light streaming from the window to my left leading to the next room. Being unable to move, having been temporally paralysed and bed-ridden, and see made me feel almost imprisoned, trapped, abducted. But the voices of Linda and Tulio, as well as their faint silhouttes through the window, soothed me.

Ironic, too. They were arguing, with their voices muffled by the room's door, but still loud enough to hear.

"Yes, but the whole reason we brought them together was because their species is endangered! It's been a month, Lin. A month. They should have at least _one_ hatchling by now. Nature should've taken its course by now, but it seems like they've built a dam now."

"You need to be patient, Tulio. Not everything goes as planned."

My face fell as I discovered the subject. So that was what Tulio was so concerned about. Not that I was a life that was supposed to be saved, something sentient and transcending over all, but I was the last of my species. That was what it was all about for him.

"But what if they never start a family? What if Jewel gets into trouble, _again_? How long before it's too late? 'cos if one of them is gone, there goes the Spix's."

What do you mean 'again' you filthy ornithologist? I'm not as weak as you make me to be goddammit. If there was another Spix's out there I doubt you'd be so batshit-concerned over me. Stop being so pretentious.

"Tulio, forget the Spix's. I know it's important to you, but it's only a species. There are plenty more out there that can be saved. But think about Jewel and Blu first. What if they don't _want_ to start a family? You can't honestly do anything about it."

Yes, Linda. Please, defend my cause. You're my only hope. Here 'only' is used without exaggeration.

"You can watch me try. I have a biodiversity to save, Linda."

"Can you forget about that for a moment, please? Blu and Jewel are people too. And no matter what your science proves, I've lived with one of them for nearly one and a half decades. This isn't about you, or Mother Nature or generations of Spix's that don't even exist now, for that matter. It's about Jewel and Blu. Don't come telling me you're going to disregard the life choices of two living birds for your own ambitions. It's not about giving them a family, you know. It's about being disrespectful to them."

One living bird, Linda. Only one.

For one moment Tulio was silent. I could imagine him with his eyes clenched tight shut, his brain pounding against his skull in simultaneous frustration and furious thinking. My keen hearing detects him sighing in exasperation.

"I know that, Linda. But what if Blu and Jewel truly remain childless? What if they grow old and die together alone, with nobody to support them besides us? What if they aren't surrounded by their offspring, and _their_ offspring, when they die?"

Then it would be paradise, I thought.

But before I could attempt futilely to go in there and voice my opinion, Tulio steamrolled on. "Won't that be truly sad, if they didn't procreate? Perhaps I can at least try to convince them. This is far graver than you put it you know. This is about maintaining a line of birds whose selfish life decisions would wipe their ancestors' hard work off the face of the planet. This species thing is something I've worked my whole life to retain…"

For a moment, my attention drifted away from the conversation, in utter disbelief at his words. There was no sarcasm laden withtin them, and it was a hardened, sincere opinion from his heart. And it was one the dumbest things I have ever heard (and that says a lot, considering the number of suitors I had before… which I refuse to digress about.)

Our ancestors' hard work? We have ancestors? And they worked hard… to have sex?

Somehow I doubted that. And even then, this is what I wanted to do. This is my life. It's not Tulio's, or the world's, or even Blu's for that matter. I have my beliefs. And I will never compromise them, no matter what Tulio thinks.

Screw saving the species. Screw the fact that if not for that, I wouldn't have Blu. This is my personal freedom, my choice, my decisions. And this is what defines me, my individuality. There is nothing on this earth that will ever take that from me. Not even Blu.

Why won't anybody listen to me? It's bad enough that only birds can truly understand what I say, everybody seems to bear the exact opposite sentiment as I do, let alone be able to understand my rationale, my personal opinion. Everybody is hellbent to change that. Even Blu is subtly convincing me this. And if Linda agrees with Tulio, there will truly be nobody who can agree with my thinking.

It's only one trait of me. And yet the more people who turn against me, the more closely I will twine my feathers around it.

I want to be free. Free to live my life and make my own choices, and to be literally, very truly be unbound by any hatchling of any sort. It would be Blu and I together for all eternity, and nobody can sever this bond.

But somehow, it was also simultaneously me against him. It wasn't a true war that meant that one side had to die. It was a tug-of-war, to see who could drag the other into their zone. And as long as I didn't lose, we didn't have to enter a full-fledged battle to the deaths. But until then, the bond between us was pulling us apart, nearly bursting at the seams.

…

But if Blu refused to assimilate as part of me, as part of my individuality… …

…

…then screw him too. And definitely not in the literal sense.

Linda's voice breaks me out of my state of trance, with a volume that is heightened enough to make Blu stir in his sleep.

"Can you just focus on what matters? Unless you have the speaking skills of Adolf Hitler, they may never procreate! And if you can't talk them out of it, there's nothing you can do about it. Nothing! Nothing that doesn't violate their basic rights of owning a life! Can't you just face that! These are sentient, living beings that exist right now, and are sleeping like, five meters away from us! Jesus Christ, Tulio, don't just regard something that _doesn't exist_ over that of something that does!'

Tulio's voice is mixed with the same pure fury that taints Linda's voice. The profanities laced in their conversation make me flinch involuntarily.

"I _do _have their interests to heart!" –_yeah right_, I think, _and in other news, my feathers are naturally black_- "I do want them to have the best! For God's sake, Lin, I am doing my very best to ensure they can be a normal family! I don't treat my avian subjects as goddamn guinea pigs! I just want them to have a future, and for their genetic line to keep going! Is that so hard to ask?"

Yes, it is. Way more than you can understand.

"In any case… they will have to procreate, sooner or later. It's… probably only a matter of time. But if it isn't… I will everything in my power to ensure that thousands of ornithologists' work aren't disposed of by just two birds' selfish reasons. I'll try talking to them… and if that doesn't come through, then I'll have to use my own means."

And with that, Tulio stormed off, the door opening with an unnecessarily huge amount of force, only to hit the wall with a sound no louder than a pin drop. The clip-clop of his shoes echoed away as he turned to the left and in the faint moonlight, his silhoutte blended into the darkness. Linda's silhoutte emerged from the door, after what had seemed like fifty geologic ages, and I heard her sigh, a whisper in the wind. And then she walked away towards the right and disappeared behind a door, without looking my way.

This time the full indignation of it all washed over me. I couldn't believe this – why did these humans have to be so selfish, so self-obsessed with their own ambitions? All I wanted was to be free – nothing more, just to ensure that I could fly free without being bound by a child. After all, there are many people in this world that don't want children- and no matter how much their governments try to campaign for their pro-natalism, they ultimately cannot change the decision laden within the hearts of the citizens. There is nothing they can do that would change the mindsets of people, no matter how hard they can try.

So why did Tulio think he could solve the problem of Japan, Singapore and China just with words? If it were so easy, then the world wouldn't suffer from this problem- what made him think he was so special? What was the whole point of going through this, and pissing off both of us? Why did he have to be so headtrong in this?

This was all just so infuriating, in all honesty. Tulio wasn't truly concerned about Blu or me, he was concerned about our kids. If it weren't for him, none of this would have happened. I wouldn't have to be chucked away into some stupid human's dream of saving something so laughably minute in the grand scheme of Mother Nature. In fact, I wouldn't have had to be abducted while minding my own business and become subject to a life of being a surrogate, a test subject for genetics. I wouldn't have had to put my life on a tightrope by a bunch of psychotics and place it in the wings of a bird who, as much as I love him, couldn't know how to beat his wings to stay airborne.

It just had to be me, didn't it? It just had to be me who was an endangered species, who had to be worth like a billion dollars or something, who had to get thrown into a genetic mess of a stupidd biodiverse scheem of mankind? If this 'supremely rare' Spix's Macaw were just some dumb Mary, Jane or Lisa, they would be the ones under this torture. Not me. Not the very person who would do everything and anything to escape such a fate.

I couldn't. I just couldn't do this.

For one moment, I just stood there, in the darkness, with nobody knowing I was awake, aware, or even opposing to this very idea of it all. The whole notion of fate placing me in the talons of the bird that I would never want to be. No, honestly, I would rather be Nico, or Nigel, or perhaps pre-marriage Eva, who would be free, completely and utterly free of burden, of the world's perception and judgement, of whatever fate thrust upon you knowing you could go anywhere without meeting your doom.

I would've flown away if it weren't for the fact that every bone in my body were probably in smithereens… but now, I was vulnerable. And all I could do was to stand there, unnoticed, alone in the dark, and cry my eyes out, until there were simply not enough tears, or water in the world, that could flow to express my sadness.

I'm so sorry, Blu.

I'm so, so sorry.

* * *

Review please!

Also Merry (early) Christmas and we survived the apocalypse! \o/ *successkid*

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	3. Freedom

**_PLEASE READ THIS WARNING: I do not own Rio, Jewel, or any character or theme used in the Rio film. They belong solely to Blue Sky Films and 20th Century Fox._**

_Yes it's been moved to the M-rated section, so if you don't like sex, please don't read. It's my second time writing lemon (shudders) so… yeah. Not going to elaborate on it…_

_This chappie's kind of long... just to warn you. It's more of a bunch of filler than anything else, so hope you've got time, because you're in for another ride! Enjoy! ^^_

* * *

Sometimes you can tell yourself something, over and over like a broken record, something that you can religious believe in, something you think, a vital portion of your mind. And then, when you stumble upon a hurdle that challenges you on that, the pressure is too overwhelming, and you abandon that part of you. Sometimes things look easier to believe in and keep to your heart from afar than nearer.

This is probably the only explanation that could honestly justify my reaction when Rafael, Eva, Nico and Pedro visit.

Blu, being the accomodating and saturatedly innocent bird he is, rushes to greet them like he'd never seen them in thousands of milleniums. Of course, I am the main star of the show, and after prying away, their eyes, attentions and accusations aim and intersect through me, like millions (or 4) pairs of lasers that taste like guilt and incrimination, like concern and indifference.

And then I look into the eyes of Rafael and Eva. What I would've seen were two parents who had just lost one of their children, and were still in the midst of griefing over it. How I would've acted was to be more understanding and concerned for them – since, after all, death is a far more serious injury than mere broken bones. No, scratch that, the impact of death is a far more serious injury than just death. Overwhelming grief is when somebody you love is suddenly gone forever, without a trace, like a bolt from the blue, and with the outright proclamation that you would rather take his/her place.

But when I looked at them, all I saw were the two parents who raised a killer. And for one sorrowfully brief and awfully biased moment, there was a disgusting lack of sympathy for them, nor any trace of understanding for their situation. It was an insane, uncontrollably concentrated ire that made every feather of me shiver violently, like a part of me was on the verge of bursting forth from me. And I wanted revenge.

So the words that flew out of my mouth came like a bolt of lightning, furious like wildfire.

"I'M GOING TO KILL YOU FOR THAT CHILD!"

I couldn't honestly blame Blu for stepping in when I charged like an angry bull with its horns aimed fatally at them. I barely hit them, and thank the stars that they were both good-natured enough not to claw at me back while shouting. I didn't even know what came over me, and before it registered in my mind tears were neatly slithering down my face. But I wish they had, somehow. Their shocked glances put me more to shame than anything else. And the worst thing was that I didn't feel it at that time.

"Jewel! Jewel, please, calm down!" Blu exclaimed, using his might to stem me into place as I writhed in his grasp, my narrowed eyes set on intent and attacking these two birds who had spurned the reason for my near-death.

"LET ME RIP THEIR THROATS GODDAMMIT!" I yelled, scratching the table board as I still prepared to lunge at them. It didn't matter that they had worn the most horrified of faces, the full shock of my outburst electrifying them – the only thing shrouding me was the sole emotion of anger, and my brain received no other signal.

"Jewel please! Don't do this! Stop, it's not their fault! Please Jewel, calm down!" Blu half-yelled into my ear, and I could glimpse the tears falling from his cheeks.

I didn't acknowledge this. I was screaming and violently attempting to rip myself from the only fully rational bird I ever knew and loved to bring about the similar revenge that Rafael and Eva's failure of the successive generation had enacted back on them, in the most unfair fashion I knew how. "PAY FOR YOUR PIECE OF SHIT SON'S SINS, BASTARDS!" I yelled uncontrollably, staking the remorse that would crash upon me later. "YOU SHOULD'VE THROWN HIS EGG OFF THE TREE! I'LL KILL YOU I SWEAR TO GOD!"

"Jewel, please stop! Blame me instead, for their sake, Jewel, love, please…"

The fury that coursed through me made me quite literally see red, as if walking around with a crimson blindfold and armed with an axe while being high on insanity. "YOU CAN GO KISS MY ASS WHEN YOU LEARN HOW TO RAISE A SON! I SWEAR YOU'RE GOING TO PAY FOR THE LIFE I'VE BEEN UNDER WITH YOUR FILTHY, PIECE OF SHIT LIVE-"

"_Jewel, __**stop.**_"

I don't know how long it took to calm me down. I remember screaming and swearing with enough expletives to make the most putrid of people disgusted at me, and promising I would rip out their throats and skip rope with them repeatedly. But it was that one statement, after an avalanche of uncalled-for threats and expletives that I really did stop.

Even as I slowly deterioriated until I couldn't say anything more explicit than 'screw you', the scratches that I had inflicted were probably permanent scars, I was back to where I was, with my eyes red from spilling tears and my beak strained from the yelling, and Rafael and Eva with trauma nearly visible on their faces as they looked upon me with a mix of disgust and pity. I deserved it, but in all honesty, I almost got killed. If an emotional outburst doesn't equate to all the feelings that I had repressed within myself, then I didn't know what did.

Sometimes, emotions ruin everything. Logic is clearly the only thing that should and would stand against everything else, since rationale is what every single thing on earth would boil down to. It's what drives our state of mind and what our whole existentialism is founded upon. Yet what is arguable the essence of human nature and simultaneously the stupid, ill-concieved Achilles heel of every single person and bird on the planet is what breaks this fundamental down.

Sometimes your own selfish ambitions, desires and emotions are enough to tear down your ardent beliefs, and no matter what you tell yourself, all it takes is one heat of the moment to screw that up.

I told myself that I would always keep Rafael and Eva in my heart and I would not blame them for their dickwad of a son. I told myself that anything capable of thinking for itself has only itself to blame for its actions. Blame the object, not the creator.

But all it took was the sight of them to remind me of the very person who I would despise forever while he was rolling in his grave, and I attacked. In my mind, it was righteous, pure fury at their utter, crushing failure to raise a child, and their ability to spawn a ticket to my death. It was one incident that blanketed my entire realm, engulfing everything else in darkness away from me, and it took one belief that I held. Admittedly it was something I didn't cling on to dear life, but it was still part of me that was chipped away. And that was painful enough.

Now because of that, I had lunged myself at them, without the decency to feel sorry except only until now.

Now that I look at them, I was at a loss of words. I had pretty much shut them off from whatever they were attempting to say, as if showing them that their apology was unable to restore balance between us, and ultimately futile. There was a very long, awkward silence as Nico, Pedro, Rafael and Eva had their eyes fixated expectantly on me, while I sat there in the wings of my mate, shivering as if I were in Siberia, whimpering like a puppy kicked over and over again and bawling my eyes out like an infant.

It would have been better if they all just left and let me be. Perhaps it would have been, for them to exit my life and the hemisphere of destruction that I had set up around myself. That was what logic dictated and what would have led to a better scenario.

But the straw that broke the camel's back was that Rafael stood forward, slowly at first, hesitant about stepping into a pool of acid, before he plunged and went over to me, and did the unthinkable.

"Jewel, I… I'm sorry. I know my son… he… well he tried to kill you. I accept that, and I, well deeply resent that."

He scratched his forehead sheepishly, in a way that wasn't reflective of that of a father talking to his son's murder victim, but like a father giving a sex talk. It's like having a murderer for his son was not inherently in his nature, but rather thrust upon him. I guess it was at that point the sympathy seeped back into me, but in no way did it displace the anger within me; it merely diluted it.

"I don't quite know what to say, or how to say how sorry I really am. You and Blu, you are _meu amigos_ you know that? We're the only people who actually respect each others' sanctity of life and treat each other like equals. But as a father, I killed you. I killed you and Blu, and in the process I lost… a son. And all that because I didn't raise him well enough.

"He was my son, and I knew him best. Eva and I knew him best. We could've kept him under control, but… we let this happen. And now he's gone, and you're in bad shape. We're… truly sorry. I wish I could offer you more than our apologies to compensate it… other than the corpse of our son."

Rafael cleared his throat. It was more painful to watch than having to sit through a surgery without anaesthesia.

"I guess it's what they say. Blame the creator, not the object. So, Jewel… I'm sorry for all this. I… I don't quite know what else to say…"

Every part of me screamed that Rafael shouldn't have blamed himself, and that wasn't his fault that I almost died. This is exactly what I never wanted to occur within my life – to think that all grown-ups are responsible for their succeeding generation, and that all grown-ups should pay the price for the mistakes of their children. And yet I had just threw myself at him for that very reason.

At that point, Rafael's voice trailed away and never returned, like a failure of a boomerang. It was as if he was on the verge of breaking down and crumbling, like a poorly built architecture with its cornerstone precariously jutting out where it shouldn't have been. He stepped away, and he fell into his own mate's wings, where he cried his heart out, the sobs drowning the entire room as they poured out from his mouth.

Blu seemed to have been psychic the entire time. "Rafael," he called out, letting me go slowly before releasing me like a reverse mousetrap hinge as he realised that I could stand independently. He closed the distance between him and the two Toucans, while maintaining his sincerely concerned expression that had its attention now directed to his friend.

"Eva… Rafael, this isn't your fault. Believe me. Jewel, she… she's just a little upset, that's all, so that's why she… lost it. D… Don't blame yourselves, please, if you'd like, it's my fault, I… I just left her alone, and then it was all just…"

"No, Blu," Eva spoke, her voice thick with Portuguese accent and honey-viscous sorrow. "It's... okay. I… I think that I should… atone for my child's mistake, since he's not here to do it."

"There's no mistake. He tried to murder Jewel, and he's dead. There's… nothing else to be done. But we're sorry. I'm sorry, that Jewel…" –Blu looked at me, as if I had transformed into a werewolf in front of him- "that Jewel did this."

"She shouldn't be," Rafael interjected, and that shut Blu up, as he held his mouth agape before closing it, lost for words.

"I am sorry," I muttered under my breath, but audibly enough for Eva to barely pick it up. "I'm… sorry for doing all that, Rafael, Eva, I just couldn't… control myself. I really couldn't. And… you lost a son. I broke some bones. That's… vastly different. And me trying to… kill you isn't going to help. I… I don't know what to say-"

"I don't blame you for trying to attack me," Eva said, blunt as a butterknife, and I cringed. "We only have ourselves to blame. We… deserved it, in some way. We raised him, after all… it was our mistake that he committed. And we apologise for that… that could've cost you your life."

"No," I said, trying to stand up, trying to be strong and unwavering, but still under the guise of a façade. "Don't say that. It's my fault. I shouldn't have attacked you. Honestly, I…" –I hated tears, why did they have to betray us at the worst times possible? The sadness that pricked you suddenly expands for no reason whatsoever- "I… It's not your fault. I'm here… and he, he's dead. It was so… *sniff* it was insensitive of me to do that. I don't know what even got over me, I just… just…"

"No, it's okay. We deserved it… all of it," Rafael sighed, putting his wing around Eva, the tremendous guilt that I knew they didn't deserve descending upon them. It made me sick, that I couldn't even bring my point across without interruption from any, just one external force. "And we… we should be to blame, for everything. We should be the ones one that ground, we should be the one suffering… we should be the ones dead."

At that point I don't know what had been inflating within me all this while, but it had been intangible to me, and yet in one full burst, it exploded from within me. All the indignation and fury of it all, that such fundamental yet utterly stupid, absurd truths had caused me and these two innocent Toucans so much grief and pain. Perhaps at that point I had realised that the terror that children had pose to the rest of the society didn't halt at death. It lived it perpetually to haunt the world, regardless of their actual involvements in the crime.

In other words, they could get away destroying the familial circles and relationships of many without any consequences whatsoever, and leave everybody in its path, traumatized. It simply made me sick to the stomach.

"No… it's… not like that… AT ALL!"

I couldn't swallow it all. With tears veiled in my eyes, the joints in my talons buckled, and with my limp wings supporting me, I retched onto the table until there was nothing else in my stomach.

And as I heard Blu cry out my name, rushing by my side, tipping from the fence to desert Rafael and Eva in their grief, the only thing I could do was to wail and cry.

"I'm sorry, Rafael… I'm sorry Eva… I… I just… just… fuck life." I spat in my tears.

* * *

If Rafael and Eva hadn't been our friends, or if they hadn't possessed such a divinely hospitable and sympathetic attitudes towards us as a fragile, couple of chained-together birds, they would absolutely severed our ties. Either due to the sheer, unbridled infuriation and incrimination of us having killed their beloved, eldest child, or due to the overwhelming guilt and grief that they had virtually almsost murdered me, and would have their shame repel themselves away from me. Either way, the only logical thing was that we would never see each others' faces ever again.

But because our friendship was more sentient than a Bible, it withstood. And as much as I love Rafael and Eva, this frankly frightened me to death. All of it seemed awkward, unfitting, serratedly jarring and most of all, horrifying. We would both have the same nightmare and guilt haunt each other reciprocally for the rest of their lives. It equated to more fights, more tension, more breaks between the strings that bonded us together, and more guilt for a crime we didn't commit. It would just whittle us away, until we were merely splinters of our former selves, and our friendship would be forever irreparable.

That was the last time I had espied them – even as my injuries recovered, my flight strength recuperated, and the breaks in my bones sealed, they had not made a second hospitable visit. It had taken an entire month- 30 days of excruciating pain as I remained physically imprisoned in my own, unmoving piece of shit body that had been smashed to pieces by a mere, goddamn _child_.

You know what being bed-ridden feels like? It's like being strapped down, without the rope burn in exchange for your innards set ablaze and discomfort like a nagging sensation that sheened around your body. Blu is merely like morphine, dulling the pain but never quite eradicating its presence, and once gone, allows the burning agony to engulf you once more. Even in these 30 days, it had far from felt like it was actually dissipating, at times even peaking at zenith levels of pain. Needless to say, it had evoked countless nights of hoarse screaming, uncontrollable writhing and tension of the body, and extending whatever period of projected recovery had been set in front of me. It was like the more I reacted and struggled against the hard road that was put out in front of me, and the more I insisted on perservering instead of succumbing to it emotionally, the tougher it was for me.

For a fall so fatal, my wings are almost permanently dysfunctional. According to Blu I had screamed loud enough to gain the curious stares of every single other avian patient within the clinic, and had to be restrained by some of the security guards and consoled by Blu for nearly the entire day before my fury had been extinguished. And I swear I overheard Tulio mutter to himself with a somber look on his face, "It'll take way too much to convince this one here, ay-yay-yay…"

But the fact remained that time spent grounded – and time spent bedridden, invaded by fever bugs, and subject to being physically manipulated by human, untrustworthy hands – was spent wallowing in torture and imprisonment from that sweet taste of freedom. How many times was I going to be denied of this?

Fortunately, the last time I had broken my wing, it had taken no less than 3 days before I was as good as ever. And so while the damage inflicted was multiple times over more intense than a mere cage landing on it, my aerial abilities returned to me, a boomerang returning faithfully to its owner as nature demanded.

Of course, nature demands many other things, most of which are understatedly unappealing to everybody else. But who the hell cares, right?

It's been a month. But it's been worth it.

By the time Tulio had stripped off my bandages, checked for any sustaining injuries for the hundred-and-thirty-seventh time (boredom has its neutral perks, come one come all, for a jaw-droppingly low price of a full body onslaught of pain and agony) and said, "Well… I think Jewel will be all set to sail, I guess but be sure to be ca-", I was out the window, soaring away into the azure canopy enveloping the atmosphere once more and feeling the wind rush through my feathers once more, my mate entailing me as he called my name.

"Woohoo!" I yelled into the wind, screaming in pure ecstasy with the invisible, familiar force sailing from beneath my feathers. "I'm freeeeeee!"

These are the days and the times that I would love to cherish and experience for the rest of my life – to feel my own wings beating and guiding me forward, the momentum slicing me through the still air and my mate with me always. I would laugh like I was insane, when I was in actual fact injected with sheer adrenaline, and yell –where it would be drowned in my flight, a whisper in the wind. But all that I would feel was the ecstasy that seared through me with the air streaking past me... and with that final piece of puzzle came in the form of one cerulean Macaw – one klutzy and naïve one, but gentle and loving – that carried an ember of endearment and completion with me. That my life would never be haunted by loneliness and could be entrusted into the wings of someone my heart was yanked towards, like twin gravitational fields that were free to roam this earth ceaselessly, boundlessly.

The aerial acrobatics that I conducted, with Blu watching me with a careful yet amused expression, were the very things I lived for, the very things that I would aspire for the rest of my life – that right to own the sky and act like you didn't care, act like the world's your oyster, and to soar towards that pearl no matter how impossible it seemed.

The smell of tropical breeze and the fresh jungle wafting around me like a swirling smoke vortex of aroma; the glorious and dazzling dawn that bleeds its golden crimson in the sky to the brilliant and serene pitch-black dusk under the radiant disc of the moon; the taste of Blu lingering on my tongue after we kiss, and the warmth of his body upon mine as he tightly embraces me, like two pieces of a heart closing the distance. These are the moments I want to treasure until I perish, and the moments I will never tire of experiencing. **And that is a life I, as with everybody else, am entitled to. And it's that simple. Nothing else – just the forest to be mine to wander freely and without a care in the world.**

So why is it the life that everybody is stopping me from having?

* * *

There is probably only one beneficial thing that emerged from my state of immobility, and even that was as temporary as freedom.

Blu, being the cautious and exaggeratedly child-like lovebird he is, went out of his way to ensure my safety in every way possible, even accompanying me to… let nature take its course, at one point. (His face remained as red as a tomato for the rest of that day) He fed me, tucked me to bed, constantly asked if I needed anything (I gave up counting on the 12th day, on the 267th time) and almost never left my side, sans when I stated my necessity of privacy or when Linda called Blu over to speak to him. Despite the slight closeness equating to discomfort, the way he tended to me spoke valleys of his love for me, with all the doubt that he would abandon me in my trials and difficulties evaporated like mist in the air.

A huge, gargantuan bonus that came attached to this multiplied intensity of vigilance and gentleness from Blu was the whole thing about a blazing, horror-imbued family of his – the topic never reached the surface. Besides, how was one expected to be capable of, well, intercourse, in the condition of having glass mantled over my bones rather than feathers? The main perk of having a mate who was previously hungry to ignite the familial flame lash of generations of other Macaws suddenly having every iota of energy invested into your comfort was that one prioritised concept drowned out everything else, no matter how integral it was to your life – when your love was on line, you would do anything to save it in spite of the consequences.

Then again, nothing quite lasts forever.

Nevertheless, having been officially discharged and free to roam the earth as I had been procreated to do, Blu's cautious hold on me is as firm as it has always been. Even as I take my extensive flight of newfound liberation through the open air, he eventually calls me down in the irrational fear that I was over-exerting my body, and that I was still as fragile as paper. And for the next few days he had been indenting lines to fetter me to place and restricting my freedom.

Even while medically and scientifically I had been rejuvenated and strengthened once again, suddenly I was as guarded as a national treasure – never permitted to stray from Blu's side, as he tended to me in feeding, swallowed insomnia as I slept soundly, and tensed almost bitterly against Nico and Pedro as they made friendly visits. And every time they were obliged to say, "Rafael and Eva… say hi… and um, sorry… and stuff…", time seemed to stretch to infinity, the silence suddenly sharpening to pierce everybody through the hearts, as they struggled to utter the words.

Of course they would, in any case, Rafael and Eva were trying desperately to rebuild their family in the midst of their 17-18 rambunctious hatchlings who were either too indifferent to give a shit about it, or too stricken with grief over the death of their bloodlined playmate to be consoled. It was probably hell for the two innocent Toucans trying to overcome the hurdle of sorrow erected by their own child and simultaneously glue their family back together again. And needless to say, no strength in battalions and quadrons would be able to fix it back again, unless the hand of God touched them.

And needless to say, by the time they finished, I would be fighting back the ferocious tears threatening to spill from me.

If this doesn't convince you about the damage families can do, I don't know what the hell does.

In any case, evidently love is a double-edged sword. Being addicted to the one thing that immediately fills you to the brim with glee by the sound of his name and having his presence enact as a more potent drug than cocaine entailed several other consequences. A presence that failed to blend with yours to morph into one, singular, Taoism-esque identity was nearly parasital without attached strings of love that occupied space and engulfed your life like black flames.

So here I was, gliding through the air with my mate by my side, our wings practically brushing past each other, and flying with the relative speed of snails. Somehow I understood that all this unnecessary caution and love smothered upon me like a pillow was a sure mark of Blu's saturated love for me, but it was like asking for honey but ingesting sugar instead. It was so saturatedly sickening and even uncomfortable to a certain degree. And the worst thing was, some part of me – a part of me that I wished on every star to be a liar, yet was the essence of me – some part of me told me that all of this was truly necessary for me.

Blu made it a point to establish our nest-cum-hollow within the greatest proximity of that of a giant mango tree that housed a plethora of juicy, fresh, ecstasy-laden fruits that would make even the most stoic of birds melt by the sensation that wrapped around their tongues. Yet it demanded a compromise that was close enough to hisk a dying a bird to Tulio's aviary in the dire emergency of someone's life on the line.

While normally I would object and complain of the compromise that weared both advantages thin, the distance saved my life, so I shall remain silent.

As we perched ourselves upon the tree, Blu nearly immediately lunged his body upon one particularly large, bright orangey mango tempting us the moment it entered our lines of vision. It was rather comical, to see him struggle as his body writhed and his beak relentlessly pecked against the stem, not unlike a woodpecker. A chuckle involuntarily escaped my beak as his eyes met mine and the corners of his beak curled up into a klutzy, goofy smile before his concentration was averted back to dislodging the obstinate fruit, his wings fluttering frantically at war.

And that's when I heard an alto voice call out.

"…are you sure, love? I mean I…"

My trance broke as I stared in the direction of my lovebird, only to realise he had not been the one to utter those words, still engrossed in snapping the stem of our breakfast for the day.

Instinctively my eyes began to dart around the place, until I detect the source of the voice, where on the branch directly below us, 90 degrees to the left, two Hyacinth Macaws were perched, wings and feathers intertwined around each other's bodies horizontal to the branch, their faces plastered together and their breaths fast and short. The male counterpart of the couple wore a concerned, anxious expression that questioned some sort of limits, until his lover plunged her beak and tongue straight into his, and his face melted into pure pleasure, his wings exploring her body and lingering on the lower areas. And it wasn't until I managed to regain the capability to think again that I realised that they were doing.

The rational part of me threw up buckets of bile, repulsed away by such an unsightly, public intimacy. In the human world outside, normally such indecency without any regard for privacy was condemned by the general society – perhaps not in Rio of course (good luck wandering through a beach without catching some dude balls deep in somebody else) but in general. Nobody ordered a public showing of pornography, no thanks.

But somehow, my curiosity rooted me to the spot, my eyes unable to peel away from this outright display of love. Even with the frankly mortifyingly loud, occasional moan and groan captured in the aural range miles away, and with their bodies writhing like snakes over a carcass, somehow I was attracted to the sight. The heat that rippled through my body whenever Blu and I… indulged in passion, tickled the seams of my feathers, and I clacked the edges of my beak together firmly.

It seemed like milleniums before they broke their kiss, and the female stared into the male, and even from up here, the glint in her eyes that was injected with white-hot lust did not escape me.

"Shhhh, babe. Less talk, more of me," she whispered in his ear, a husky tone layered over her voice with the amplification of a not-so-controlled volume, speaking valleys of her bottled hormones within her body.

"But… people could be watching, no? And besides-"

"No buts… except ours, 'course. There's no one watching" –except for the whole damn jungle probably obscured from view, but considering this was the Amazon…- "and we're alone… and you know what I want now? You."

Another moment later, and their beaks converged once more, sloppy kissing sounds emitting from where they laid. Their bodies began to shift once more, and entaglement of feathers that merged two into one, like a physical embodiment of love.

If I ever had to explain why I remained there, my talons frozen to the bark of the branch as I witnessed the rest of this spectacle of eroticism, it would be fully staked upon my unwavering curiosity, magnetically drawn to these two passionate lovers.

As the female one spread her talons and her mate plunged his lower torso into hers, there was an unearthly scream that could have torn the heavens, one so unadulteratedly ear-piercing that it could have turned the heads of the deaf halfway across the globe. And then, quite literally, they fucked like I would've never imagined it to be like. It seemed like they could never run out of energy at all.

"Ahh… AHHH! Ah, oh my god… yes, like that, do it like that… ah, AHHH!" The female screams as she thrust repeatedly into her mate, her counterpart wrenching his face together and emitting groans and screams of his own. It was like he had been slashed –but without the pain, instead with the pure pleasure and passion that was absent from anywhere but live, personal experiences. Their bodies writhed wildly, like they had been possessed by the demons of lust, and their cries reverberating into the atmosphere like they were strained by air, and like they were without a care in the world. FREE. Free like two birds who owned the sky without a care in the world. Free of judgement or chains.

"That's it… harder… faster… c'mon baby, ride it, _ride it! YES! MMMM!"_ the male cries, as even he succumbs to the sensation that I witness.

"Oh… oh my god… mmmm… that's it, love, that's it… oh, OOOOOOH!" The screams repeated itself, mirroring back and forth with increasing volumes and intense passions to the point where the noises drowned out themselves into one blurry cloud of ecstasy.

It was like that, for an awkwardly long time, seeing them moan and thrust and buck their lower, nether most sensitive parts against each other, offered like altar sacrifices on that tree. It was as primal and unreserved as imagination could take you, to the point where their consistent thrusting and moans (not to mention unreserved explicy) were supersonic, fast and loud for the world to declare.

And with one harmonized "AHHHHHHH!" (dear God what is wrong with me) they both… climaxed into one another, for lack of better word. It was that one unrestrained belt of blissful lucidity that coursed through them and was expelled into the atmosphere around them that I knew.

Somehow the whole notion of sex never more than slightly intrigued me – this being the only reaction invoked other than the magnitude of the devastation one simple act could cause to anybody. It was something that I had flippantly dismissed in the past to be an improbable event to befall upon me - but now that I had witnessed for the first time (I am not as dirty-minded as you make me out to be, in any case), the full fascination of it all piqued within me. Was it as passionate and pervaded with love as conventionalities made it out to be, and how the most closely-knit and intimate of lovers displayed it to be like?

The technicality of sex was, as explained to me, the mere pressing of cloaca together – and now that was to elicit such an electrifyingly lust-filled reaction from both parties? How was this supposedly the most romantic, most passion-imbued ritual of mates? The initial perception that flashed across my face was the equating of sex to that of the innocence of shaking wings. It seemed absurd that it could catalyse such an intense… session, to say the least, completely unhidden from my vision, and with the ferocity that burned like a thousand suns.

It must have been eternities peering at this queer couple, engaging in such a peculiar activity that made hearts go wild, minds consumed as virtual fireworks erupted in their heads, and bodies melting with every rippled of pleasure. It was an animalistic and primal sight, yet one that felt so raw and natural that it kept my eyes glued to them, as their pelves thrust against themselves, with the look of percieved anguish written across their faces disguised as furious passion, and they screamed and moaned to the skies above without restraint.

Such an experience of feeling eluded me (mainly because, it was the first step to self-inflicting doom?), and naturally an ember of curiosity ignited within me. Perhaps there was a method of which copulation could occur without leading to zygote inception, just the pure, unadulterated experience of sex grinding me and cleansing me. Perhaps I could experience this enpowered and mystical sensation that had been the hallmark of mates' bonds with each other. Was it as pleasurable as everybody made it out to be? Somehow the lusts that I harboured for Blu at times… somehow they raged within me but never quite swallowed me whole.

Now I wasn't so sure. Now perhaps the desire and the pique that spiked within me, previously contained and minimized, was now stimulated within me, taking on a more monstrous form, threatening to shatter the bottle it had been kept it and to be freed from its cage. Now the urge bristled through my body, tempting me to liberate my inner lusts to him.

And as much as that exhilarated me and injected me with ecstasy, fear shrouded over me. Plus, within about the same balance and magnitude of _that_, it was simultaneously similar to that of the form of true love.

It wasn't until I felt Blu's feathers brush against mine did I realise, with an electric jolt surging through my body, that he had been by my side, watching the whole time, two mangoes now cradled like an infant in his wings – both of which small enough to fit into his arms like jigsaw pieces.

The moment my eyes met his, his stoic, unwavering expression melted into hot, furious shame, crimson spreading all over his face. "Should… should we go now?" he asked sheepishly, his eyes desperately floating away to avert mine.

"…we should." I replied, and with him next to me, we fluttered off in unison with the cry of love reverberating into the distance behind us.

* * *

_Reviews please? Just to, well, let me know how I'm doing and stuff… writing's a bit rusty, unfortunately… sigh._

_Guys. I forgot to make this M-rated the moment I wrote that scene. Guys. What's wrong with me._

I

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	4. Lover

**_PLEASE READ THIS WARNING: I do not own Rio, Jewel, or any character or theme used in the Rio film. They belong solely to Blue Sky Films and 20th Century Fox._**

_Sorry this chappie took so long, it was pretty awkward and it's definitely not the best out of the rest of them... just a bit of filler that I hope makes sense. Rushed it out for you guys, so... yeah. Hopefully you guys can enjoy it._

* * *

Sometimes it seems to me that everything good is easily reversible, and that everything bad is steadfastly irrevocable, like the devil is straight set and intent on making the lives of anybody who didn't already suffer pay for their sins.

Sometimes it feels like God isn't watching, and that instead of every misfortune being on a whim lick dark clouds shrouded the sunlight radiating throughout the skies, every fortune was a fluke instead that only scratched the surface of harsh, unforgiving reality.

And sometimes it feels like once you slipped into a tribulation of your own, you were doomed for the rest of your life – this being aggravated with every attempt to make it right, to the point where all you can do is watch and scream in horror as the world burns right in front of your eyes.

Once you slipped, you'll never climb ever again.

The situation can be applied, as suitably and scrupulously as it could get, to my relationship with Rafael and Eva. Somehow I knew that any further consulting with them would only result in two pairs of newly gushing Niagara Falls, the diabolic return of old guilt, shame and sorrow, and in essence the destruction of the framework of their family they had worked so hard to overcome hurdles to achieve. That is, of course, if they have actually had constructed such a framework in the first place. This is the central, sole reason that drives me away from their hollow, leaving me to fly off to the only other birds capable of driving my love life to a straighter path.

I guess perhaps in retrospect, flying to Nico and Pedro's club wasn't particularly the best of ideas.

The timing seemed to be somewhat perfect. Roughly a week of minor tussling and debating with Blu over my condition and freedom, he finally relinquished his grasp upon me with the confidence that my flight strength had been completely restored- a phenomenon that had occurred way before he had 'scientifically and biologically estimated' it to be.

That was the day I realised that I would be incessantly pestered to take part of his own prematurely concocted notion of an idealistic family.

In any actual truth, my actions –with the ideal type of limelight cast upon them – can be considered to be quite selfish. Sometimes, as I lay in bed with my head nestled into Blu's chest, listening to his heartbeat thud in the silence of the night, and I wonder what it must have been like for him. To continuously reject his own beliefs for the sake of another's, to tell himself his ambitions would eventually be fulfilled when the barrier between them and himself was impregnable as it was, to sacrifice his ideals for love… it was the exact scenario that was being enforced upon me. And somehow the utter shame and guilt that naturally came attached with this and had been flung upon me felt bone-crushingly airtight, like I was being strangulated by love and the emotions of Blu.

Yet somehow all of this would have been much, much easier to handle as compared to the crushing weight and everlasting doom that would ensue once I made that one fatal mistake.

It was rather ironic, I suppose, that such a seemingly innocuous and of course, sensationally thrilling action, that easily welded two partners together in the duration of an eyeblink, could be portrayed in such a calamitous and destructive manner. And perhaps overlooking its status as the main method of HIV transmission and the mountain of teenage girls' lives that it had devastated, stripped down to the core, this was a simple, yet fierily explosive engagement of trust and love at its passionate zenith.

Believe me when I say, I am not that type of person who would throw away her life into desparity in an uninformed, premature family based on a whimsical, heat-of-the-moment decision of raging hormones. Perhaps I was behaving somewhat like a typical young, innocent sixteen-year-old, and that having plunged into this situation, I would descend into same pitfall as she would, with the same type of consequences, with the one sheltering theme of the theft of freedom and a future enveloping us – but with much more years of maturity bridging between us.

Of course, for me I suppose, the stakes were much higher. I had been afflicted with my lovebird, the one bird who stole my heart and breath with every time I gazed into his milky-chocolate brown eyes, and the one thing gravitating me to a fate against my will but as reality favoured. And much worse, my life is shorter in the temporal sense, and I had to live with this misfortune for the rest of my pitiful life, no escape whatsoever, no medical science to rope me out.

All the more I had to approach this with full, straight-on caution.

The more I considered it however, the more it seemed like my options were running dry. Even my next-closest friends seemed like worse advisors than terrorists on the topic of world peace. How do I know this?

Well, the moment I entered their club-cum-state-of-residence, the first thing I had espied, in the mid-sentence of me greeting them, was Nico banging some random canary stranger.

No, seriously.

It was in broad daylight (which, in the terms of a nightclub, was probably akin to that of the most secret and unknown twilight hours of their day activity), it was on a crate-makeshift-table, and it was about as restrained as two tigers set out of their wire prisons in their zoos. I probably should have detected their louder than usual/necessary noises emitting from outside the club; it was like the Concorde had been stationed there waiting to take off. And worst of all, everything was in plain sight, in the scenery to watch.

Perhaps the one thing slightly more disturbing than Nico's clenched, concentrated face as he (I am as close to hurling as Calvin Harris is to you, in any case) indulged into some random stranger, was Pedro's indifferent expression from across the room, eyes averted away but acting as if somebody wasn't having sex like a metre away from him.

Of course the moment his eyes met mine, the corners of his beak curled into a warm, welcoming smile.

"_Joia, mi amigo! Tão feliz de ver você de novo! Esta tudo bem?"_ {Translation: Jewel, my friend! So happy to see you again! Everything alright?}

Of course, this was before he registered my pale-white face, and my face scrunched up in horror and shrunken eyes beaming towards his best pal. No words had to be said before his eyes widened by fractions.

"Oh that. Right. _AY NICO! Você pode sair do seu cavalo alto por um segundo? Sério! Jewel está aqui!" _{Translation: Can you get off your high horse for a second? Seriously! Jewel is right here?}

It was at that point where Nico and… his one-off lover simultaneously grunted a warcry of rapturous ecstasy, one not unlike that of ear-splitting moan that had been emitted by the two Hycaniths back at the mango tree. Imbued with such sheer pleasure that it made the heavens crack down the middle, unadulterated ecstasy rippling through the air that resonated with their screams.

For an eternal minute, the only sounds that wisped through the air were that of Nico's heavy panting and Pedro's tapping of his talon (topped off with eyes rolling and huffs of exasperated sighs). Then, like a bolt from the blue, Nico, for lack of a better word, dismounted his sulfur-yellow counterpart, pressed his beak to hers with the impact of a bullet from a gun, feathers rustling and bristling against each other, before he spoke.

"_Ay, adeus, meu amor, e vê-lo em torno de outro dia~" _he crooned in her ear, before the other canary spoke, in the same fluent Portuguese at a speed undetectable to the keenest of hearing, as they stared into each others' eyes like they knew each other for their whole lives. And then, she smoothly wriggled her way out of under Nico before taking off into the air until she was no more than a speck in the sky. And like that, it was over. {Translation: Ay, goodbye, my love, and see your around another day~}

Pedro's eyes met his best-pal-canary's in a deadpan expression. "You've only met her for one night, Nico. And you've been at it for longer than you two talked to each other. Sometimes, I don't understand you."

As he sighed in exasperation, my eyes widened larger than I realised I had the capability of. I _did_ fail to recognise her, but did Nico seriously have a one-night stand, in broad daylight? It was near impossible to imagine him stooping to such a level, to lose your virginity/connect to somebody at such an intimate level, to somebody who barely knew you… how could anybody just be so callous like that, to perform the most sacred of the rituals in romance to a stranger?

This wasn't a time to judge Nico for his life choices, though. It was pretty much now or never.

Nico's lovesick expression did not waver. "Ah, but sometimes, when something beautiful comes into your life, you have to just, _seize _that moment. And also, if you had eyes like mine, you'd just notice, _dat ass._"

"Perhaps 'dat ass' isn't the most important factor to just have sex with somebody, you know," I chided emotionlessly, the words involuntarily flying from my mouth before I could control them. Immediately two pairs of eyes darted towards me, and the regret washed over me too late.

A smirk gradually began to drawl upon Nico's face. "Well excuuuuuuse me, princess perfect-relationship, but not everybody has a loving mate by her side to make love to every now and then."

"Ay," Nico lamented, a mocking sorrow face plastered across his face. "Not everybody found love in their own places and have a certain perfect person" –he jerked his eyebrows up and down twice, and I rolled my eyes before I knew it- "to keep on, well, _loving_ everyday, you know? Estou certo, amigo?" {Translation: Am I right, amigo?}

"_Sim," _he replied, as they both bursts into tearful fits of laughter.

It took our bond of friendship and their blatantly joking faces to prevent me from smashing their faces in. But my face nevertheless exploded crimson, the heat flushing from my face – evidently having a perfect, jigsaw-fit lovebird by your side equated to that of an active sexual life. _Pfft, my ass_, I thought, but somehow it made sense. If you really loved your mate enough and truly treasured him as the one you love, actions would speak louder than words. And I have no idea what, apart from exposing your utter most vulnerability to him, and proving the pinnacle of feral and primal emotions to him, and linking with him in the most intimate fashion known to birdkind… I had no idea what other action could possibly express this notion better.

Or at least, the fundamentalism of such a considerably ludicrous concept is the only explanation that could possibly base my embarrassment that exploded within me.

The overbearing silence drew the curiosity and suspicion of the two midget birds as they calmed down. "_Ay, Joia amigo_, what's wrong? We didn't mean to offend you or anything, it's just that, you kno-"

"Yeah I know," I sighed. There was just no escaping this now, no turning back. And somehow I would regret exposing my most inner emotions, unrevealed and unadulterated for them to see... "I just… well… I need to… talk about something. It's about me and Blu."

Both of their faces betrayed the wave of paralysing shock that swept across them. Understandable, since these two are about as experienced in love as fanfiction writers are in actual writing, and they would have zero knowledge of how girls would normally act… but they were all I've got. I couldn't quite just consult any random bird who made love on a tree or flew past me along the way… these two were really my only hope. Of course, that can't say a lot, judging from their reactions and actions.

"B-b-b-but," Pedro stammered, beads of sweat shrouding his body, and his wings shuffling nervously. "But why us? We're… not the _best_ of people to consult over this *gulp* sort of thing… why not, um, say… Rafi and E- oh." His voice trailed off as he caught the sharp glare of Nico, which was in turn glimpsed by me as I jerked my head away, fighting back the sting of tears that threatened to overflow. Nothing had to be said – contacting Rafael and Eva was out of the question. Somehow losing a child that they could tuck into bed that night, losing a child that they had loved, and losing a child that could have grown up in the future to be somebody so much more (_than a goddamn remorseless serial killer_)… it probably wasn't a good time to converse with them about something so trivial.

Or, you know, stereotypically trivial.

Nico broke the awkwardness that dangled from the atmosphere, attempting to dig within him to find any shred of sensitivity for my sake; albeit, he prevailed to don his expression of anxiety and insecurity. "You can talk to us, if you want, Jewel… just, um, try not to, well, set your expectations too high? We'll be here… we'll try to advice you... and stuff…"

I exhaled sharply. This was it, Jewel, I told myself.

"Well… I, I have to ask. Blu's been… trying to get me, to, well, you know." –Nico's eyes averted, the crimson leaking into his cheeks, while Pedro's eyes inflated before he sputtered into coughs- "…and yeah. I'm not… comfortable with it. But I don't want to keep getting in war with Blu, know what I'm saying. I just" –I threw my wings up in the air tiredly- "want for us to reach a compromise somehow. I… I just love him too much for that. I just want to overcome this hurdle… somehow. It's… just a minor problem, but you know, every seed grows into apples if the conditions are right. So I'd rather just… yeah…"

My thoughts trailed off as I imagined Blu, both of us splitting over something so trivial. It seemed absurd, yet it was a possibility within reach. Every thread snaps with just enough friction and force, and in any turbulent relationship, anything could happen. The thought of him gone made my talons go numb, like I had been frozen bitter cold, shocked to the core as if my world had stopped. It made me feel empty just pondering over it, being without Blu, like half of my heart had been given away…

My eyes averted to the floor, and an unbearable silence bore over the three of us once again. Somehow I felt like this was a really terrible, utterly stupid, ludicrous idea. What do they know about love, anyway? I have never seen them act (well, except 5 minutes ago, but presumedly it's some sort of phase of high emotions) like they had their heart or mind somewhere else in somebody you'd never thought would be that important to you, like they understood what it was like to devote your entire life and heart unless you wished to die, like they have had ever been torn between their head and heart, ready to be decapicitated by the inner love and hatred boiling within you. Would they have understood what it was like to have your identity dissolved by the edges by the very person who loved you, by something so trivial yet so imbued with conflict and dilemma inducement that it only amplified its urgency? Would they have been able to overlook the overwhelming crudeness of it all to dig deeper into what tore me apart?

The whole tension that buzzed in the atmosphere frankly felt uncomfortable, like bugs crawling under my feathers. Somehow I could feel that all these troubles that I had implanted upon these two carefree, club birds had only served to encumber them as well with the heavy weight of emotions pulsing through the atmosphere.

I shook my head, smiling with a degree of optimism that I hoped would compensate for the trouble I had caused them.

"Um, well, I… um, I'm sorry I had to trouble you guys like this." I muttered, hot shame flooding me. "But if… if you don't quite have a solution then it's fine. I'll… be on my way… then…"

"Wait," Nico called out, as I turned my back towards them to take off. "We… don't know anything about love, but we do know things about *cough cough*… Like, when you meet that person" –a ghost of a smile appeared on his face, and Pedro smirked while his eyes tumbled in his sockets- "the most beautiful thing in the world, like the most eloquent way you can express your love to somebody. Most of all the stuff about… ok, I'm saying it, most stuff about sex are all about how, well, disgusting it looks like. Or sounds like."

"That's a new image," I remarked, deadpan.

"Well, it's not like that. If you want to get to the most primal form, it's about pleasure, and about satisfying the deepest desires embedded within you, mutually pleasuring both of you. And boy does that serve its job. If you thought that sparks fly when people kiss, when they… well, _fuck_, it's like lightning, electrifying both of you, like a rush of adrenaline, you know? Like, _beezow_!" His wings circles in a diagonal, circular arc across the sky, and he grinned as he espied my slightly taken aback expression, my face easily betraying my deepest emotions.

"Then there's all the repercussions of it all." –Pedro's words immediately caught my attention, causing my head to involuntarily tilt towards his direction- "Like pregnancy or STIs, and all that. There's always, well, the leaf-"

"Which is about as likely to work as _Joia_ to break up with Blu," Nico intercepted, with a cross look that mirrored my sentiments (God bless his canary soul).

Pedro's eyes averted. "And if that isn't it… then you just hafta find the one bird you can love and trust. It's simple, natural, and assimiliates into your life smoothly. Or at least that's what something as special and uniquely beautiful as _that _is supposed to be like, anyway… anything else that could come your way, they don't take precedence when you factor in that one _amante_ in your life. And since you love Blu, there isn't a problem at all! Nothing can come between him and you! And you can believe in that!" {Amante: Lover}

Looking at the two warm, bright smiles that arced across both their faces showered me with the deepest guilt. Of course I had found the love of my life, someone I could let hold my heart… but that was half of me. Here I was torn by my identity with the risks of entering pregnancy destroying the aerodynamic freedom that resided within me, and by the very calling that gravitated me towards my love… There had to be a way to avoid pregnancy yet without evading the most natural yet significant phase of the paved pathway in me and Blu's relationship... definitely the title of the mate is one of heavy responsibility, and with great hold on our love.

"Yeah but," I attempted to explain. "I… I don't want children. And of course, everything about natural intercourse is true so if x then y…" –I shuffled my talons uneasily across the floor- "And yeah."

Nico's head cocked to the side in questioning. "You… don't want children? No pregnancy?"

"No," I said, with an echoing finality in solemnity, to emphasize how serious it was. The message ingrained within them, as they nodded in understanding without hurling questions of unnerve. Somehow the regret in selecting them to pour out my deepest romantic secrets began to dissipate slowly."No, I do not want children. And… I don't mind expressing my utmost love through sex. It's not an issue to me. I… I just don't know what to do if I get pregnant. There's no way that I could… ever live that down. I mean what do I do? I can't turn back time, and if it happens to be a mistake, then… then…"

"Then it's… it's alright. You'll go through it together. And even then… Blu wouldn't let that happen to you," Nico attempted to comfort, diving in as I tiptoed dangling off the brink of tears. "Blu would do anything to make sure you're happy right? You have to trust him. Trust that he'll be there no matter what and that he'll ensure our happiness. It's that step of faith that every couple normally gets through… through sex. And it's natural that way. Every couple has gone through that."

It was at that point that I closed my eyes and let the logic seep in. The vision of pleasure and the true, tactile image of love at its purest, most feral and significant form, transcending everything else… into a realm that consisted of only me and Blu, just the two of us, without a care of children or family or any of that bullshit. Happiness set to its maximum and with overflowing ecstasy and satisfaction at the pinnacle… how could anybody not enjoy that?

Suddenly this wasn't about sex anymore. It was about love, between me and Blu. And that was fantastic enough for me. Everything about children and having a bunch of rugrats tearing my life down suddenly seemed like an absurd idea. And a premise miles away from home; Blu was right there, by my side, through everything… how would he possibly let my worst fear ignite to life as we let love take precedence over all? Surely he would be my mate – the highest honor of love attainable – and he would be by my side forever.

And then, the image of a bird, with the eyes burning crimson with an unspeakable sinisterness, rushing at me like a sonic boom, its claws aimed straight at my eyes… the silhouette bleeding away a bright orange colour to give way to trickling blue, until... I envisioned myself, the monster of me, slowly killing, slowly torturing, slowly ebbing away the lifeforce of me and the very bird I owed my life to… and it would be all my fault.

It was that of terror - my worst nightmare come true. Imprisoned into a fate of endless suffering, of being haunted by a menace who would destroy us, my heart, my freedom, everything… and it was all because of one mistake. One slip-up. Just one flicker of heat in the moment… and there it was.

And the colour fled from my face, as I watched it approach me, a genetic fuck-up of a combination of both of me and my mate, with the devillish face grin of a lunatic, as it lunged for its prey, an animalistic, love-less cry emittting from its face.

I yelped, the sonic waves involuntarily bursting from my beak and smashing the barrier between imagination and reality, as I staggered back, the sweat coating my feathers. The image of the infant beast threatening to rip my throat out burst into polygons, although its silhouette began to become emblazoned into my memory, the darkness remaining stamped even as I closed my eyes.

But then, Blu, who had been by my side this entire time, now became the focus of my attention, the tactile, soft feel of his wings intertwined with mine, and the heat from his skin exuded upon mine. The moist, veiled feel of his eyes, the way he smiled so cheerfully at me that the troubles lifted from my back… it was so blissfuly lucid, everything felt lightweight, and suddenly nothing else other than love made sense. Suddenly it wasn't about worrying about some kid prancing into our lives with a trail of fire behind him – it was about us. We would never let that enter our lives… and we would stay a peaceful, neutral state of serenity, nothing to come between us, where both of us would stay happy.

And some part of me, the inner molecule-sized core of my heart, that part of me whispered, in a voice softer than the air passing by you on a non-windy day, that told me that even if I ended up pregnant, Blu would be with me, and that was all that mattered.

As a smile began to tug at the edges of my beak, I returned to my senses. I must've looked rather silly, having had a bolt of electricity pulse through me and suddenly have that child-like, oblivious joy seep into my face like I was some psychotic idiot – thus explaining the unnecessarily overtly concerned faces of Nico and Pedro hovering over me, their mouths screaming my name horrifyingly.

But I guess that what they said made sense. And every last trace of regret and suspicion that bore deep within my bones finally dissipated into nothingness, mere air… and that somehow I knew that perhaps, Blu would be there, like an everlasting safety net, to watch over me, never letting me fall the fiery depths of my nightmares.

And that would be all I'd ever wanted.

"…sorry, guys, blacked out there for a moment," I muttered, straightening myself and regaining my orientation. "I… I think I know what to do. You.. you guys are right. I shouldn't worry about my life… that much. I… I think I know what to do."

If they had been stunned before, it seemed to amplify a million times right now, to the point where their pupils became pale-white, their irises faded away.

"…wha-… but… but… are… a-are you sure 'bout that? I mean… you just told us… about your fears of pregnancy… and now…"

"Yeah, I know," I relented, sighing in exasperation. "I know but… there… there are other methods of contraception right? And to avoid… all that trouble. And besides, this… this would be such a disappointment to miss." I cringed slightly at the connotation of that thought, but it prevailed merely monterarily.

"I think… I think I'll let love take charge. And you're right."

A smile, albeit ambedded with a visible uneasiness, creeped across Nico's face. "I… guess so. But, just be careful, 'kay? We… don't want all this to… you know, go over the cliff and go haywire and… stuff…"

"It's okay," I assured, grinning. Where did that come from, anyway? "I will. Thank you both, by the way… I… I think I'll see you later. I'll… try to absorb it all in first…"

"Yeah, that's… nice." Pedro said, the puzzled expression still plastered on his face.

And just like that, it was over. I turned my back to them, my eyes still glancing over my shoulder.

"Good luck with the future, then, Jewel… we'll see ya," Pedro remarked, as Nico averted his eyes away, twisting the corners of his beak awkwardly like he was contemplating something.

"See ya, then, and thanks for everything," I said, attempting to exude my most genuine smile of gratitude to them… and then, I took off into the sky, awaiting a new life and new hope just waiting to be crushed again.

* * *

I can haz reviews? :3

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	5. Inpenetratable

_**PLEASE READ THIS WARNING: I do not own Rio, Jewel, or any character or theme used in the Rio film. They belong solely to Blue Sky Films and 20th Century Fox.**_

_Not sure when I'll be updating this the next time, school is getting in the way once more and I might be busy. I'll try to update, I promise, but I can't set a fixed date, unfortunately. Oh well._

* * *

I wake up with a feeling comparable to that of balloon – hollow, filled with the thinnest of substances that might as well have been absent, with a surface stretched so tight that it was on the precipice of just exploding by its own, but instead remained lofted into the atmosphere, external perspectives unaware of the implications and afflictions suffered by it.

My memory feels like it had been wiped clean, now a blank slate of empty emotions and memories. The sun, normally emitting a gentle orangey hue, is now bright and razor-sharp, like intangible knives barraged upon my corneas, and the bark below my feathers feels like serrated sandpaper. It is suddenly too humid, the air is too heavy, and it is way too hot for my own comfort, the sweat coating and gnawing at me like small little wet beetles.

Emptiness waits to be completed. The immediate questions that flood my mind are "What the hell just happened last night?" and "Why am I here?" and "Why can't I remember anything?" Everything is fuzzy, like an electric malfunction, and my vision attempts to adapt to the harsh sunlight attack them, to little success.

As I attempt to sit up, it is a wash of alcoholic hangover, the pounding in my headache causing me to groan in agony, my wing involuntarily jumping to my forehead. I blink rapidly and shake my head to clarify my vision, and when I do, it's my hollow. Nothing life threatening has occurred yet, thank the stars.

Then next immediate thought that surfaces in my head is in the silhouetted form of the bird my heart belonged to. Blu – Blu, where is he?

To the side, I instinctively turn my head, and upon the sight of my cerulean lover, slightly crumpled in his feathers, I sigh in relief. He sleeps like a ba-… a log, his wings outstretched towards me, a blissful smile on his face. I could imagine me mirroring his position, filling the space where the gap in between his wings provided, fit snug and completing each other.

And then, the memories struck.

I was a mate now. That was an irreversible, irrevocable, inevitable fact. I was a mate. The bond has been fully knotted and tied – and that will never change.

I remember that day, after talking with Nico and Pedro, returning to our hollow, where Blu and me sailed along the skies subsequently to resume our romantic sequence of life, going to places of which even their colours and names evade me, going about conducting silly things, doing things that I would only do with alcohol though not a drop slithered down my throat. I remember that day we laughed at the most obscure and unfunny things, spending the day together as two birds in love, and nobody else. I remember that day where we placed our lives on the line, going out conducting the most ludicrous of stunts, attaining many bruises along the way but still with the exhilaration and rapturous adrenaline that carried us through, like drugs in our veins, while we danced our lives away without a care in the world.

And then I remember flying back slightly exhausted, with the smiles of weariness retaining upon our faces. And from then on, it was still rather foggy – one thing led to another, a kiss into a make-out, an embrace to an exploration of bodies, love into passion, the slope of eroticism that we descended gaining gradient… the only strain that kept us apart was Blu's doubts, his surprise that I'd fall into the very pitfall I had bordered up, but of course it dissolved with the sweet persuasion of love. It was only once… we could pull away when the time was right… you'll be there for me won't you? Forever? You'll make sure I'll be safe and happy, right?

The only two things that I remember vividy after that were the two things that had imprinted onto my mind for the rest of my mind, carvings that would never disappear even through the sands of time. The first being – sex isn't all it's cut out to be.

Let me be the first to tell you that there are several other heartfelt, devotional actions that would trump what would be the most sensual engagement in terms of romantic expression. The title of the mate is merely a name, like 'the bluest Spix's Macaw', and is nothing special… yes it basically ensures the strengthening of a bond between two people, and makes it more obligatory to keep… but it doesn't make it less easy to break.

And while the sensual, erotic pleasure of your nethers getting stimulated, the very core of you lighting up like it was aflame in pure, unadulterated pleasure mutually kindled in both of us… that sensation was temporary. Sure it would have galvanised the most erotic and passionate of feelings that anybody could possibly dream of achieving, but what was the good when it only lasted for a lightning flash moment? What good was happiness in a second, but sorrow for an eternity?

The second thing that I remember was that we didn't pull away. We had been so caught up in our escapade into a new, refreshed life of love that we didn't bother using any contraceptive technique or whatever. It was just the two of us, nothing else mattered… and we went all out… and so we dived right into the core of it all, with no regrets, receiving the full brunt of it all.

That was when the astonishment struck me at full blast, and the regretful shame flooded me once more. What have I done? Copulation… that was the very first step, the one stage that allowed you to descend, at abnormally erratic gradients of various great steepnesses, into despair and a life filled to the brim with liabilities and afflictions. Have I really fallen into such a hopeless abyss by my own, without restraint, having slipped through the cracks of my defenses, and made my own life the hell I swore I would never enter? Have I really gone against my will, through my own actions and mental mindsets? Was it that simple that you could fool yourself into temptation, temptation coaxing you to stray past your greatest barriers and objections to foray into the worst of your nightmares?

Do you know what it's like to realise that you've screwed up so badly and so irreversibly that the effects of your fatal mistake already leaks into you, like the first drops of acid in a hydrochloric meltdown? When the full realisation that you've single-handedly flipped your life around into a bottomless abyss of anguish, it's like being trapped in a glacier – completely stunned, frozen, immobilized by the sheer fact that your tower of Babel has been destroyed by the hand of God. It's like being set on fire, the full emotion and nervous system radiating with sheer shock, exasperation, and most dominating of all, melancholy.

And it's like having your heart shatter into a million pieces, with a billion times the impact of what a break up with the man of your life.

I couldn't help it; I exuded a whimper, so pathetic that it was undeserving of empathy, and I buckled over, my talons wrenching with the effort as my wings erected towards my face the muffle the subsequent sobs that spilled from my mouth, an overflowing waterfall from a broken dam. My body rocked violently as I contemplated the idea of me, a free-spirited bird, guarding her right to be free and unbound by the world as her life depended on it, me being… pregnant. With a child, personally breeding a nightmare just waiting to blossom into a fully grown monsterous terror of sins and hatred…

I've always wondered how zygotes – yes, with the origination of sperms and ova, or pollen and eggs, whatever nonsense biology teaches with the concept of inception – how these lifeless things could be considered as lives, as in, equals with actual, breathing human beings. Blu's told me about human biology and how embryos stay embryos, even as they are expelled unceremoniously from the mother's… butt… and until they hatch, breaking open its paper-thin cage and tweeting, screaming for its mother or somebody to love and hold him. How it's basically a leech within you, eating your nutrients, sending you into phases of anger followed by any other random, passionate emotion, and giving you other constant problems, before it's out into the world. And when it's out, it remains as primal and subspecies are fungi before

How are these akin to the lives of real people? I mean, sure, in 3 weeks or 9 months or something it'll emerge onto this earth, covered in scum like its body had excreted itself, and it'll be truly another life to add to this overpopulated, scrambling, messy world. But when it's the size of a raisin, or in the form of an egg/stone, or in the form of jelly-like cells… it's amazing how people still think it's a sentient, holy entity that should never be condemned.

In fact, the idea of it being a monstrous, Godzilla-esque menace that absorbed anything associated with the good seemed like an idea closer to reality than it being a life. Even the bacteria in the dirt are closer to the core of life than mere _eggs_ are – what eggs are, they're no more than a fireball, ready to destroy anything in sight.

And when the actual life breaks free of the fragile prison that traps it, it's much closer to a fireball than anything else would be.

This is why I attempt to pull the fragments of my Pangaea life back together before they can split apart irreversibly. I wipe the tears from my face, and blink rapidly before thinking. I could be pregnant. I could have a baby, and my life could be ruined by one massive tumour blooming right in the core of everything I've protected to keep. The possibility is at a dizzying proximity, like a comet heading straight for the earth, the heat already burning the forests to ashes. And it's like a swelling block of ice, ready to stun and devour me whole if I stumble.

The hypothetical child within me isn't a life. It's not even a gift or a monster. It's a pain, the substance of sheer misery, and the embodiment of primal fear, liability and catastrophe. But the one thing that stops it is that it's not alive. Yet, of course… But nevertheless, it remains as dead as a corpse. Yes it is an entity of devastation and sorrow… but it's dead. And I could stop it – I will stop it, if it ever emerged from beneath the surface into reality. I wasn't even technically known to carry the unborn/dead yet… so what do I have to worry about, or at least, for the moment?

It won't get blown out of proportion, because I knew that whatever it was, I could handle it. Or at least, Blu and I could. We've gone through so much… and now that we have sealed the bond of mates, it seemed like nothing could come between us.

Except, perhaps, the fact that… there was nothing to restrain both of us as we succumbed to our passions.

I looked to my side again, and there he was, not moven from his spot, the innocently blissful face still etched with the traces of passionate rapture from the romantic ventures from the previous day. It was like he had been frozen into one position without movement, without knowledge from the outside, locked into an endless matrix. It was like he was dead – but so alive with emotion. Of course my heart leapt to my throat, of course for that one moment my world stopped spinning and my breath halted in its tracks, and of course I felt like nothing else mattered but the two of us, like we were immune to the world that smashed upon us like a gigantic gavel of injustice.

But were we? The vision of a child – _our_ child, our very own hatchling emerging into the world, suddenly stealing both of our attentions, initially locked magnetically into one another now intersecting the one thing that would kill us both. Both of us drifting apart like continents, both of us pouring our love into the bond that was supposed to keep us both safe and forever together, both of us wearing ourselves out for an endless rift that could never be satisfied with two pools of outstretched love, and both of us taking the world-weight responsibilities of a child's sins and torments. It was like the worst thing possible, becoming the worst thing that ever happened.

And it would be all my fault – since I alone had the power to avoid it all, but yet I had to let my fortified defenses crumble.

The very notion of Blu and I falling out over something, something that had been catalysed by the very thing we had almost fell out over… to say that it was painfully ironic is extraordinarily understated. It was like the journey that had been paved out for lovers is packed with mountains –and once you managed to clamber over one of them, the other is suddenly twice as high as the other obstacle you've overcome. And there'll always come a point where both of you just abandon ship and give up entirely. Always.

Perhaps the thought of losing Blu was the final straw. In my head, with the minute chance that somehow I was carrying his child, with the hypothesis that nags on the edge of my brain until it crawls into my skin… That chance that my worst nightmare could escape from the holes of the inpenetratable barriers I had once erected, to haunt me… somehow I knew. I knew I had to somehow stop it from ruining my life. Somehow.

But then, the overwhelming gloom engulfed me, and at that point I snapped. Attempting to make as little noise as possible, I pranced my way towards the edge of the hollow, where I retched and emptied my stomach – activated by a factor boiling in my stomach, I know not – out onto the open canopy of leaves that shrouded the forest floor below. I knew that I woke up Blu in my desperation, but I didn't care. I attempt to release my tears along with the vomit that plunges below, to envelope the true sadness that came entailed with the streams of moisture excreted from my eyes, freely given like misfortune.

My body is on fire with pulses of agony ripping through my feathers, stoppaged by the mere wing that held me tight by my mate (oh god, oh god, oh god) and the cries of "Jewel! You okay, Jewel?" My eyes remain clamped shut, as I endure the pain rushing through my veins and the whimpers that emit from my beak.

It takes what feels like milleniums before I calm down, the aching fire still raging in my belly ready to consume the remnant of my glass soul. I hear Blu running through explanations for my abrupt bout of hot shame, ones that cannot hit the mark ("must've been something she ate" "was I really that rough? Goddammit, Blu…"), interspersed with his consolations attempting to extinguish the fire within me. This is definitely not how I would have imagined waking up after making love, or at least not a year ago. It felt ridiculous, stupid, but the weight of the realisation of my screw up superseded the shame I would've felt – I didn't care.

"Jewel… love, are you okay? I… I'm sorry for whatever happened last night, I… I didn't expect this to happen at all…"

Neither did I, in all fairness… the words failed to escape my beak, and instead I crumpled in his wings, my own wrapped around him like grapevines, completely dependent on him. I had probably cried myself desert-dry, but I didn't care – all I wanted to be right now is shrouded in the love that numbed me, the morphine to the agony that had been inflicted upon my life, and all I needed now was Blu. It was like trying to tie the knot had only strained us further – I needed to hold him closer. It was an overtly obsessive hold, but I didn't care.

I couldn't let him know about what I've been through. I simply can't. It would tear him to pieces… and what good was doubling my burden to share with him? It would only ruin something as sentient as… what we have done…

"No… it's okay. I'm alright. I… I actually enjoyed it. Everything was okay…" I admit, attempting to masquerade a crooked, sheepish smile, and lifting my head painfully sluggishly to meet Blu's eyes. His face is contorted with concern, a distinct contrast from the face that I had set my eyes on for comfort and assurance when we rode on till the stars disappeared into the darkness. He looked at me in a way that he suspected I held a secret – a bigger one that he'd expected to find, one that he knew and thought remained embedded within me…

"I'm such a mess," I laughed, attempting to lighten the mood, but to no avail. "Hehe… ah. My feathers feel like spines now, and even I know that hedgehogs don't vomit that much… ahaha…"

Blu sighed, unsure of what to say. It was like he was dealing with a loved one turned brain-dead – and he might as well have been. His seriousness is grave, deadly, almost paralysing, and he speaks like every word is an acid-tipped spear. "Jewel, I… Please. Tell me honestly. Please, just… don't lie to me. Did you think last night was a mistake?"

A pound in my head resounded, and a crevice in my expresion cracked open before I hastily closed it shut. "No," I lied, so painfully that it didn't take a rocket scientist to extract the agonisingly obvious falseness inherent in my tone. "Of course not. It wasn't something on a whim… it… was magical. Amorous. And… I love you. Even if I felt like I died on the inside" –which was in itself, an understatement- "I'd still love you… after all."

"Really?" Blu's skepticism failed to mask itself. Which was understandable.

"Yes I do. And I still do. So… I - I'm sorry for making you so worried. I… I'm just so glad that you're here with me."

I nuzzled into his neck, and through the periphery of my slitted eyelids, I see him relax his tensed muscles, and exhale sharply as a smile played on his deadpan, solemn face.

"I love you Blu. And… I'm sorry about everything. I'd rather just… stay in your wings – forever. Nothing else to pull us apart."

I take another glimpse, and I see Blu relenting completely, his wings shifting to embrace me, and him nuzzling his head into my own. Once again I wonder

"I love you too, Jewel…" he whispered huskily. "And I always will. Forever, as my mate."

And I don't know why, but with that last word, I crumpled in his wings, and I could not stifle the whimper that exuded from me, muffled in his feathers, and the tears that I had held back flowed.

With no one to hear.

With no one to see.

* * *

Do you want to know what is the life I want? It's this.

It's when you're flying. The air sifting through your feathers, the wind shearing past you as you slice throught he serenity of nature to emblazon your own mark of nature. Birds are made for flying – that is what makes us unique compared to every other creature on this planet.

Be it gliding aimlessly to feel the air smack against your face refreshingly, roaming the greenery to see the sights and be captivated once more with an undying intensity by the beauty and openness of the jungle, or to elegantly weave the acrobatic patterns and soar speedily in the open skies without a care in the world – that was the epitome of freedom. To have the spacious air below the blanket of clouds as your own playground – the gymnastic mat to liberate yourself, the white canvas for the artist to splatter his creativity without a care – that was what being unimprisoned was.

It's when you feel alive, like you're truly living and making every moment last and count. It's when there's nothing to encumber you or chain you to the ground and when you're liberated, free to choice your own path of life in the open airs and atmosphere that you know that you're truly free. Free and living without anything to bog you down.

I'd trade a talon for a full-blasted, pure experience of this exhilaration pulsing through me – even if it was for one minute. Where you could make the full use of your life and pour your energy into just tasting the freedom, seizing it so tight that it burned a hole in your chest with the sheer power that it exuded. That was the life I wanted.

Here I am right now, leaving all the troubles of the past, all the burdens of yesterday behind for the wind to bury, for the sands of time to conceal as the pure ecstasy and lucidity of exploring the spacious skies that lay waiting out there. I close my eyes, letting nothing but sensation and tactility dominate over me, with the comfort of Blu at my tail, watching me amusedly like I was a mere child, and feeling the wind shear past me like a gigantic, invisible yet superior power washing over me.

It is the umpteenth time that I've done this (but definitely restricted much more than a bird really should be…) and I have let this experience overtake my senses way too many times than I can remember. But each time it feels the same – breath-takingly amazing, driving me forward on an endless journey to a nomadic, vertiginous point of insanity, one that stymied and bewildered me like the sight of a diamond valley with an undyingly consistent intensity. Logic, caution, rationale and all sense of thought were thrown away frivolously for the full force of euphoric jubilation to course through every fibre of my being, jolting with the energy that resuscitated me and allowed me to breathe the open, natural atmosphere around me…

"WOOOOOOOOO!" I involuntarily screamed, the ripple of gleeful pleasure igniting me, setting me alight with the fire of life… no words could describe this sensation. The sun basking upon me like silken rays of gold, the air spearing through the joints of my feathers and unknotting the strains within my muscles… it is heavenly, paradaisical and exotically unexpressable.

Feelings come as easy as they go, sad to say.

With my eyes shut, I crash spectacularly and with the grace of an elephant on a tightrope. One moment the impact flared like a lightning flash through my skin, a pain that thudded like a gong and dully resounded through me like a numbing anaesthesia. The sensation halts like a car smashed into a wall – gone as quickly as it came – and is immediately followed by another similarly exhilarating and bewildering experience that later climbs steeply into a frightening, feather-raising and deathly feeling that hovers over me like an icy hand. I try to scream and yell for Blu to save me, but my vocal chords are the first to die, and I open my eyes to watch the pivot, swinging me from life to death in an instant.

I see a large blending luscious, safari green rather than the frigid, unforgiving brown of dirt, and before I know it I am sent tumbling through the canopy of leaves that cushion my fall, my body comically bouncing from tree to tree as branches of soft, (thank-god-for-) nature catch me as gravity sucked me back where the earth truly started.

I landed unceremoniously into a pile of mud, soft and mushy as it should be, taints my feathers brown. But I am alive – the fact is so overwhelmingly incredible and impossible that my mind fails to register it, the superseding exhaustion from the aftermath of my crash spreading like venom over me. I groan agonisingly and I barely register the frantic cries of my name uttered from my mate's beak, and the increasing volume of his cries and fluttering wings approaching.

The joy of the retaining of life fails to grasp me, and curiosity sets in. The object that I had collided with was definitely not a tree. No tree could dream to grow to the altitude of which I flew in – not in all of Rio. Neither was the rough, sandy texture of bark nor the spines of cacti or thorny trees or any other fragment of nature the feeling that I had encountered. It was feathery, yet fleshy – another bird, another being of my kind who had been as careless as me. And considering how much _that_ connotes, somehow I had to find the reckless, indifferent bird who had probably flew away in all that…

And then fluttering – a resounding symphony of feathers beating to fight against the inpenetratably unbreakable force of wind, amplifying as they near me. But it is not the usual, gentle wing rhythms of my mate, but accompanied by another pair. My twin perpetrator, with an erratic pattern intercepting Blu's, approached at a more rapid speed.

Half of me wanted to rip his throat and intestines out for not watching where he was going, but the other wanted to profusely apologise for basically committing the mistake I was accusing him for. The conflict could only be smeared over as the dull thud of pain throbbed in my head, my pupils spinning uncontrollably in my head as I struggled to gain orientation and logical thinking, stuck in a phase that came at the worst of times.

When I regained my vision, my eyes caught the sight of two birds who perched themselves on two opposite ends – one of which was the familiar silhoutte and cloud of cerulean that approached, jittery, and with the muffled cries of my name still coming from his mouth. And on the other, was an avian stranger. He merely stood from the side, aloof like the whole thing hadn't happened, his wing sorely rubbing his temples, and with an inscrutable face that peered into mine.

And then, that was when I caught his eyes – the irises that tinted his eyes, the familiar, solid green eyes, frigid with indifference, and that shade of royal blue that adorned over his body… and all the memories came down.

With that one moment, the shock jolted through me for the second time that day… a bewilderment that was accompanied with an unnatural, lava-hot anger that burst forth at a greater intensity than I had ever expected.

"YOU!"

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_*waves hands in the air* Cliffieeeeee..._

_Reviews are appreciated once more._

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